


The Raven Sisters

by the_raven_sisters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Car Accident, Drinking, Insomnia, Language, Mention of blood, Nightmares, Original Character(s), Panic Attack, Partial Nudity, Smoking, Violence, mention of attempted sexual assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-03-05 23:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 87,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13398306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_raven_sisters/pseuds/the_raven_sisters
Summary: After being rescued from a vampire nest in 1991, two foster sisters, Harper and Maise Raven, were adopted by two female hunters, Laelynn Tucker and Quincy Carter. Years later, in honor of the Harvelle’s and Ash, they start up Harvelle’s Safe House as a clinic for hunters. Then, after a fateful run-in, the girls’ lives are irrevocably intertwined with the Winchesters, in every possible way.Check out our tumblr for more content!www.the-raven-sisters.tumblr.com





	1. Blood Is Thicker Than Water

**Author's Note:**

> Theme Song: Hey Brother by Avicii
> 
> Harper x coffee is the real otp of this series. also im lowkey in love with Danny and if you have any good ideas for a Harper/Danny ship name let me know lol also originally part 1 and part 2 were supposed to be one part but it was too horrendously long… so we split it up for the readers sake… -mara
> 
> Forgive us for the lack of Winchester’s for the sake of building our own characters, but trust me, there will plenty of Sam and Dean in the rest of the series! If there are any triggers you think should be added to the warnings, please let us know. And yes, I know those are gifs from gossip girl and Brooklyn Nine-Nine, but for our intents and purposes that is Haper and Maisie and Phillip lol -Hope

“Don't worry, I won't let you go; I'll keep you safe.” Maisie Raven’s calming voice floats through the tense air in the cab of the sheeny black F-150, speeding down the back roads of outer Las Vegas. Her words are directed toward the injured hunter, splayed across the back seat, his head resting in Maisie's lap and her hands applying pressure to the gruesome gash there. But the driver is more affected by the words than the barely conscious passenger; suddenly Maisie's foster sister, Harper Raven, is taken back to the night she first met Maisie. The night their lives had taken a most drastic turn. 

_ Seven year old Harper slid into the backseat of a rusted old Ford, quietly trying to accept her situation, unlike a five year old Maisie, who struggled against their savior, loudly begging for her parents. _

_ “I want my daddy!” Young Maisie screamed while wildly kicking as she tried to escape the arms that were trying to save her from the same horrible fate as her parents. “Please, let go!” _

_ “Sweetheart, please get in. It’s dangerous out here.” A gentle motherly sounding voice attempted to calm her, but Maisie refused to give in to her demands. _

_ “Maisie? Please, we should listen; it's not safe.” Harper urgently pleaded, reaching out to take Maisie's hand in her own. Maisie turned to look into Harper’s frightened eyes; finally she nodded subtly, then clambered into the car with sporadic sobs still shaking her small form.  _

_ The passenger door closed once she settled next to Harper, who still held her hand tightly, trying to comfort each other with their friendly touch. Tears rolled down Harper’s cheeks, but she didn’t dare let out any fearful sobs, not wanting to further frighten an already traumatized Maisie. Instead she silently cried to herself as she glanced out the window, watching the flames dance around the inside of the burning barn. Her attention was brought back inside the now moving car, hearing Maisie's slightly quieted whimpers beside her. Huddling closer to her, Harper leaned her head against Maisie’s.  _

_ “Don’t worry, I won’t let go; I’ll keep you safe,” Harper whispered comfortingly, as they were driven down the road towards their new life and home together as foster sisters.  _

“Harper! The turn, now!” Maisie’s strained voice snaps Harper back into their present predicament. Realizing she is passing the intended turn, Harper sharply rotates the wheel as fast as her hands will let her. Tires screeching and dust flying, she clips the edge of the stop sign posted just off the road, but gains proper control without further incident as she continues traveling on towards their destination. 

“The hell was with that!?” Maisie asks, accusation lacing her tone. 

Harper shakes her head, trying to throw off the remnant of her reverie. “Sorry, I don’t know… I just… Sorry,” she breathes out, tightening her grip on the wheel and regaining her focus on the task at hand. 

“You okay up there?” Maisie presses, more empathetic now, knowing her sister's habit of hiding away instead of speaking up about her true feelings and knowing she never just loses control out of nowhere. 

“Yeah, it’s nothing. We’re almost there,” Harper redirects, believing that, right now, arriving home is more important than the haunting memories of her past.

Maisie nods her acquiescence, if only for the time being, returning to her ministrations on the fading hunter. Harper’s eyes strain slightly in the waning light of day, waiting for their destination to come into view. Finally she catches sight of the brick chimney peeking above the trees, then the soft green eaves barely hanging over the side of the three story building of the same color, that they called home. Or as the plaque on the front porch read:          

> Harvelle’s Safe House
> 
> In eternal memory of Ellen, Jo, & Ash.

Harper pulls into the driveway, barely coming to a stop before throwing it into park in front of the porch steps, instead of next to Maisie’s Classic Mustang in the garage. She jumps out and runs to the passenger side to help Maisie carry the barely conscious hunter to the safety of the house, bringing him into one of the guest rooms equipped for medical emergencies like this one. Once inside, they waste no time, heaving the wounded hunter onto the gurney placed in the middle of the room; they weave around each other collecting the tools they need for patching up the ugly gash.

Maisie starts with a small pair of surgical scissors, clipping away the hairs matted with blood, obscuring the wound. Setting them out of the way, she starts to ready the suture and needle holder for the stitches while Harper applies the antiseptic for her. Once the prep is finished, Harper gets in position to hold the hunter still. With a nod from Harper, Maisie moves in with the suture, deftly pushing then pulling the first stitch through. Maisie only stills for a moment as the hunter suddenly comes alert with a yell.

“Arthur! I know it hurts like a bitch, but it'll hurt like a motherfucker if you keep moving. Stay. Still,” Harper grunts at him, practically all of her upper body weight pressing down on his shoulders. He slumps still enough for Maisie to continue with the next stitch, and the next.  With Arthur's twitching only occasionally noticeable, Maisie moves as swiftly as her fingers can allow, trying to get it over with for everyone's sake.

Pulling the last stitch taut, Maisie ties off the ends and picks up the scissors, cutting the excess off. “Okie dokie, Arthur, now it'll only hurt like a son of a bitch,” Maisie says with a contented smirk. Harper just shakes her head, holding back her own amused smile as she pats Arthur on the shoulder, recoiling when she sees the grimace on his face. 

“Alright, we’ll let you rest now, but first have some Advil.” Harper grabs the bottle, unscrewing the lid before shaking two pills into her hand. Arthur happily accepts the painkillers from her, quickly downing the capsules without waiting for the water bottle that Maisie had grabbed for him. Shrugging, Maisie still opens the water and hands it to Arthur, who downs that almost as quickly.

As Harper and Maisie turn to leave, Arthur reaches out and grabs Maisie’s hand. “Thanks for always picking up the phone. Your mamas raised you girls right,” He croaks out. 

Maisie and Harper look back, Maisie smiling in acknowledgment while Harper nods and simply replies, “Get some rest, Arthur,” before turning back to exit the room and softly closing the door behind them. 

As soon as the door is closed, they both simultaneously let out a sigh. Harper turns to rest her forehead on Maisie's shoulder, but is immediately disrupted when her white German Shepherd greets her with a nudge. “I should probably go turn off the truck. And I should probably get it into the garage before I do that. Huh, Neptune,” Harper mumbles to her dog as she reaches down to scratch behind his ears.

“And you should probably clean out all the blood before you do that,” Maisie says with a chuckle, then looking down at her own apparel, she adds, “which I think would be a good idea for both of us.” 

Groaning, Harper lifts her head and moves toward the front door. “Do you want any-” Maisie starts to offer her help but Harper cuts her off with a hasty “Nope,” thrown over her shoulder as she proceeds out the still open front door, allowing Neptune to follow her out before closing it. Maisie shakes her head knowingly at her sister’s  _ particular  _ habits when it comes to her truck. Then she heads up the stairs to clean herself off, stopping at her bed once she enters the room as she sees her Siberian husky still sound asleep on her bed. 

“When did you get so lazy, Gandalf? You haven't even led your own fellowship yet,” Maisie says to her dog as he opens his eyes, but only receives a head tilt in return.  

“You're right, I'm too bloody for those kind of nerd comments. Don't wait up for me, you know how I like my showers,” she quips before continuing on to her task. 

* * *

 

After parking her now blood-free truck into the garage, Harper grabs two beers out of the fridge before searching their home for Maisie; not having looked long, Harper finds her on the roof of their back porch, watching the stars on this clear, crisp night. Harper slides through the window and hands Maisie her beer, appreciating the gentle breeze and cloudless sky as she sits down beside her sister. 

“I could show you the constellations if you want,” Harper suggests, trying to sound casual, but Maisie could hear the excitement in her tone.

“Harp, you've been drilling them into my head since I was five, I think I’m good,” Maisie lightly teases, before taking a sip of her beer. Harper just shrugs, taking the point and taking a drink from her own beer bottle. 

“We've got to talk to Arthur about always hunting alone. I mean I know how hunters can be,” Maisie starts.

“You mean how stupid they can be,” Harper interjects.

“Well... Pretty much. I don't get their lone wolf mentality. Why wouldn't you want backup? It just makes sense,” Maisie contemplates. 

Harper shrugs as she takes a sip of her beer. “Maybe their egos prevent them from asking for help,” she accuses. “Although, Arthur doesn’t seem to have a problem asking for our help and bleeding all over my truck. The little fucker needs to keep his blood to himself,” Harper grumbles.

“Well, I'm glad we had our moms so we didn't get stuck with one of those  _ fuckers _ ,” Maisie remarks.

“Speaking of, mama Q called earlier today. Said she's still waiting for us to gank that ghost. I’m pretty sure that’s just her excuse so we’ll come visit,” Harper admits. “We should probably visit soon, otherwise she’ll come visit us.”

“Good call,” Maisie agrees. “Or before she just burns down the whole facility to get our attention,” Maisie adds with a shake of her head. 

Harper laughs and nods in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll have to start planning a road trip back home.”

“Tomorrow, though. Tonight I'm only planning on going to sleep,” Maisie replies, and with that, she stands to go inside, first reaching a hand to help her sister up.  

Harper shakes her head and states, “I’m going to stay out a little bit longer. Need to finish my beer first.” Maisie nods in acquiescence then heads inside, leaving Harper to her thoughts. 

Harper stares up at the starry sky, thinking back to the sudden flashback she had earlier that night. It had been a while since she thought back to those dark days, but now she could see the memory playing like a movie scene in her mind. Reliving unpleasant memories is something she tries to avoid, yet tonight she couldn’t stop herself from acknowledging a time when she had never felt more scared and uncertain about her future. It is a bittersweet memory though, the night she lost her parents but gained a sister. And with Maisie by her side, fear and uncertainty didn’t lurk so close.

* * *

“ _ Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna turn around and desert you,”  _ Maisie’s eyes snap open, though heavy with sleep and confusion, as the song continues. She looks over to her nightstand, realizing the music is coming from her phone, lit up to display her best friend, Piper Evan’s number. 

“Dammit, Harper,” Maisie grumbles under her breath, knowing full well who's behind this Rick roll. After picking up her phone and pressing answer, she rests it to her ear and mumbles out a “hello” while absentmindedly running her fingers over Gandalf’s silky fur.

“He's gone; he's the second one, both from Cirque Du Soleil. Granted, at different times and from different locations, but the connection is there. I need you to help me find them-” Piper rambles, one senseless notion after another, muddling Maisie's thoughts even further. 

Maisie cuts her off before she can get any further, “Whoa, whoa, Piper! I need you to back it up, I have no idea what you're talking about. Deep breath, and let's try it again.” Maisie can hear Piper inhaling momentarily before starting again.

“It's Ellis, he's missing,” Piper breathes out, and Maisie can now hear the tears she's holding back, her heart faltering a beat for her best friend.

“What happened?” Maisie hastily questions.

“I don't- we were separated for like a minute, he went to talk to the valet, then I don't know! I couldn't find him.” Piper replies, a small sob echoing through the receiver, and Maisie shuts her eyes against the image of how devastated she must be. 

“Oh, babe. Um why don't you come on over here and we’ll ta-” Maisie starts trying to assuage Piper, but gets no further.

“I'm already on my way.” Piper informs her. Maisie smiles in spite of herself; at least Piper was still her ever proactive self. 

“Mmm good. You want me to keep you company while you drive?” Maisie asks.

“I- I think I can manage. I'll see you in a few, though,” Piper answers.

“Alright, drive safe,” Maisie warns. 

“I'm not a Raven,” Piper returns with a soft tease on Harper and Maisie's driving habits, before hanging up. Maisie lets out a light laugh, putting her phone back on her nightstand, then running a hand over her face.  _ Time to bring Harper up to speed. Well, if I can wake her up,  _ Maisie thinks. 

Maisie walks down the hall toward her sister’s room, Gandalf following close behind, and pushes the door open slowly, revealing Harper curled up in her blankets, unaware of Maisie’s entrance. She sits down on the edge of Harper’s bed, sure to avoid Neptune's sleeping form, and nudges her shoulder.

“Harp, wake up,” she implores as she pokes at Harper again. “It’s important.”

Rolling over, Harper faces her sister and gives her a sleepy glare. “What is it,” she grumbles and rubs at her eyes, trying to force herself to wake up quicker.

“Piper is coming over; Ellis is missing. Come on, she needs us,” Maisie pinches Harper’s arm before standing up and walking downstairs to start the coffee pot, knowing the rich aroma will be the best incentive to get Harper out of bed.

Deciding to wait until she could smell the coffee, Harper continues to lay in bed, wishing her thoughts would’ve let her fall asleep before three in the morning. Her memories had driven unconsciousness from her grasp again and again until physical exhaustion overpowered her. Though usually used to getting hours of sleep that could be counted on one hand, that single deprived hour is enough to sour Harper’s mood for the day. Or at least until coffee. 

Speaking of coffee, the appealing smell is now reaching Harper’s nose and propelling her off the bed, down the stairs, and straight to the steaming pot of deliciousness. Seeing Maisie had already set out her favorite morning coffee mug, she immediately grabs the pot and starts pouring. 

“Thanks, beautiful,” Harper murmurs appreciatively with a soft smile.

Maisie laughs and replies, “You're welcome, you addict.” 

“I wasn’t talking to you...” Harper looks longingly at the coffee maker. 

Maisie shrugs, not even bothering to question it. “Naturally,” she mumbles, still smirking.

Now that caffeine was a part of the equation, the girls, especially Harper, feel more prepared to take on the matter at hand. 

“So, Ellis is missing?” Harper queries; Maisie nods slowly, still trying to process it herself. 

“I didn't get much else out of Piper that made sense but...” Maisie trails off as she hears the front door opening and shutting. 

A rather bedraggled Piper enters the kitchen a moment later; her usually perfect red hair thrown into a bun on top of her head, and signature bright, red lipstick faded from her long night. Neptune and Gandalf instantly paw over to greet her. 

A brief, tired smile washes over Piper’s face at the sight of her friends, including the four legged ones. Maisie is now on her feet, going over to Piper and wrapping her arms around her waist, Piper instantly collapsing into the embrace. Harper even sets down her coffee mug momentarily and comes up behind Piper, wrapping her arms around both her and Maisie in a little group hug. After a couple minutes like this, the girls begin to release each other, Maisie notices the bag Piper carried in and slides it from her shoulder. 

“Hey, sit down, I'll pour you a cup of coffee,” Maisie says, setting Piper’s bag down on the counter and walking back to the coffee pot. “You ready to walk us through what happened?” Maisie adds as she pours the rest of the coffee into a mug before sliding it to Piper along with the sugar container and a spoon. 

After sitting at one of the bar stools placed around the island in the middle of the kitchen, Piper stirs in her sugar and stares down at the mug silently for a beat before giving a small but resolute nod. She takes a long appreciative sip of her beverage then setting it down, and begins her recap, “It was our third anniversary. We went to the Michael Jackson Cirque Du Soleil show.”

“Where you had your first big date,” Maisie quietly interjects.

Piper smiles fondly and nods, then shakes herself from her memory, back to the task at hand. “The show ended at eleven. It took us approximately ten minutes to get through the crowd, then I stopped at the bathrooms while he went out to get in line for the valet. But once I got outside I couldn't find him. He didn't answer his phone, and when I asked the valet about it, the keys were still there.” 

“Did you track the GPS on his phone?” Harper prods, after sipping at her coffee some more.

Piper raises an eyebrow and responds, “Don't you think I would have led with that if it was as easy as following his GPS?” 

“I was just asking. No need for the attitude,” Harper replies in an indignant tone, putting up her hands in defense. 

Piper sighs. “Sorry, I've just been up all night trying to figure something out. But his GPS was turned off,” she said in a consolatory tone to Harper.

“You said he was the second one? What else have you found?” Maisie asks, easing away from the tension. 

“Um, yeah,” Piper starts as she pulls her laptop out of her bag and begins to pull up her files. “I have a contact at the police department that owes me a favor, well a few actually,” Piper says, referring to her job in journalism that tends to get you favors. “I asked him if he had any similar missing persons reports on file. And there was one guy.” She opens the missing persons report and gives a brief overview of the case.

“Hue Truong. Thirty-nine. Last seen attending the Ká, Cirque Du Soleil show at the MGM Grand. Found… Uh, found dead two days ago,” Piper’s voice shakes as she utters the last sentence. She takes a ragged breath as she tries to keep herself composed in the face of the fear and doubt that plagued her mind. Ellis needs her, lest he succumb to the same fate. If he hadn't already...

Maisie reaches to take Piper's hand and gives it a comforting squeeze, while Harper places a quick kiss on the top of her head. Her friends’ warming reassurances help Piper continue with the task at hand. 

“The other thing is, he was almost completely drained of blood,” Piper finishes grimly, a realization now dawning on Harper and Maisie’s faces, which quickly darkened.

“Fucking vampires,” Harper and Maisie spit out almost simultaneously. Then Harper goes silent, thinking back to her flashback from just the day before and feeling as if the memories will continually haunt her throughout the following days.

“You get into the security footage yet?” Maisie barrels on through the barrage of feelings, weighing even heavier on her with the newest development. 

“Hacking isn’t exactly in my job description which is why I need your help,” Piper says as she gestures for Maisie to take control of her laptop. Never one to shy away from testing her skill, Maisie nods in compliance, repositions the laptop to a better angle, and starts moving her fingers dexterously over the keys. 

“Okie dokie, I'm in,” Maisie states in triumph, before asking Piper, “What time did you get out again?”

“Ten after eleven,” Piper replies. Maisie nods, and her face scrunches up in concentration as she searches for the correct time stamp. 

As the right time on the video approaches, Maisie slows down the speed of the recording and the three girls start watching intently. “There! He's there,” Piper points adamantly to a spot on the screen and Maisie instantly snaps her finger down on the pause button. On closer inspection to the spot Piper is still pointing at, she can now see Ellis’ dark, slicked black hair. She starts moving the video forward at a slowed pace, watching intently to find what could have transpired. 

Finally, a new development comes along in the form of a tall man with blonde curls popping out from under a valet hat. He strides straight to Ellis and gestures somewhere to his left, Ellis looks a little reluctant as he nods and starts in the suggested direction; after looking from side to side, the valet follows close behind. 

“Damn, we can’t see his face,” Harper mutters into her coffee cup as she begins to take another sip. “What about the other guy? Maybe there’s something on those security tapes,” she suggests, and Maisie shrugs before she starts trying to gain access to the other footage.

A minute and a few more keystrokes later, Maisie has the other footage pulled up around the estimated time of the disappearance. The girls watch carefully for the first victim, Hue Truong, among the crowd. After watching the video a couple of times, Maisie finally spots him and pauses it as soon as she recognizes the face off the missing persons report.

“Here he is,” Maisie says, pointing to the dark-haired man, then begins the recording again slowly. They watch Hue Truong as he begins talking to who appears to be the same tall, blonde-headed man from the last security recording with Ellis. “Wait,” Maisie stops the video once more to focus on the man; she zooms in the video, enhancing it to obtain a clearer picture of this tall, blonde mystery. 

“That's the same guy; let's see if we can get a better look this time,” Maisie says, inching the video forward frame by frame. Finally, as the man goes to trail behind Truong, his face turns at just the right angle for the camera to get a shot of most of his face. “Ah-ha! Bingpot!” Maisie beams, and Harper simply rolls her eyes.

“This isn't the nine-nine, Mais, that's not going to catch on,” Harper sasses, but she still gives Maisie a squeeze on the shoulder in confirmation of a job well done. 

Maisie simply ignores her and continues on to print the suspect's picture out. “Let's get this son of a bitch.” 

* * *

 

With minimal amount of sass, Harper convinces Piper to stay and rest at the house while Maisie checks in on Arthur. Dressing for the day, Harper and Maisie head over to the police department to gather more information on the mysterious blonde-headed man. A police officer sits behind the front desk, his short, light brown hair cut to police standards. Maisie warmly greets the officer; his warm brown eyes light up as he smiles brightly at the sight of the sisters. 

“Agents,” he responds, giving them a nod, and Harper smiles back. “This is the second time the FBI has graced us with their presence today.”

Maisie raises her eyebrows. “Second time?”

“Yeah, two tall FBI guys were here earlier, looking into a death. Did your boss not warn you?” The officer looks between the two girls, his eyes lingering on Harper a little too long.

“Must have missed that call… But nice to see you, Danny,” Harper says, as they keep walking deeper into the police station to find the one officer on the force that knows of the supernatural horrors in their world, Sergeant Phillip Calloway.

The girls find him sitting in his office, his deep, brown eyes flitting over paper after paper as his dark hands flip the pages. Oblivious to their approach, Harper startles Philip by falling into the seat beside his desk with a smirk on her face, effectively gaining his attention.

“New pot of coffee just finished,” Philip nods toward the break room before looking back down at his paperwork.

Harper immediately pops back up to her feet, leaving Maisie to explain the situation while she began her quest to acquire more caffeine. Maisie shakes her head while Philip’s usually stern features are lightened by his smirk, only half paying attention to his work due to the amusement he found in watching Harper nearly skip to the break room.

Philip leans back in his chair, gazing expectantly at Maisie. “So, what do you need?”

“A name and where I can find him,” Maisie replies as she hands him the photo of the blonde mystery man. “And hello to you, too,” she adds with a smile. 

He lets out a low sigh, “Can I ask why you need this information?”

“We linked him to a case,” Maisie answers simply as he looks over the picture, then adds, “So, two other FBI agents were here?” 

“Mmhmm agents Geddy and Lee, looking into a death and a missing person case. Can’t tell if they were the real deal or wannabes like you two,” Philip replies with a short raise of his eyebrows. 

“Geddy and Lee?” Maisie questions, her eyebrows furrowing, and Philip simply nods. A realization dawns on Maisie that Geddy Lee is the lead member of the rock band,  _ Rush,  _ and she shakes her head. “With those names, they're about as real as the Captain America being hydra storyline,” she scoffs out saltily.

Philip shrugs. “Alright, I’m going to scan this,” he waves the photo in front of himself briefly, “but I can’t guarantee we’ll get a hit unless he has a record. Be right back.” 

As Philip leaves, Harper reappears finally, walking out of the break room with Danny and laughing at something he had said. He accompanies her back to Philip’s desk, smiling all the way and saying a quick “see you later” as he continues to the front reception desk. Maisie gives her a knowing look and Harper shrugs before trying to hide her grin by taking a sip of her coffee.

“So, Danny ask you out yet? Or is he waiting for you to ask him?” Maisie asks, smirking at Harper. 

“Why would I? I have everything I need right here,” Harper responds, gesturing to the cup of coffee in her hand. “I don’t need a boy when I have coffee.”

Maisie raises her eyebrows skeptically, “You can't hook-up with coffee, Harp.”

“Well, how do you know?” Harper challenges, earning a groan from Maisie as she rolls her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. 

“I don't know why I even bother,” Maisie mumbles. 

“Because you're a stubborn pain in the ass,” Philip answers from behind her as he comes back into the office. The girls part, making way for him to get back to his desk. 

“Well, hello, Philly,” Harper chirps as Philip plops down into his office chair with a sigh. 

“Harp, don't patronize him; at least use his full nickname, Philly Cheese Steak,” Maisie contributes, not even trying to discourage the grin spreading across her face. Philip only glares with a completely unimpressed attitude, making the girls nearly lose it altogether. 

“If you are finished amusing yourselves, I would like to give you this information so you can go be a pain in the ass to someone else,” Philip responds. The girls attempt to gain their composure, but not trusting their voices to cooperate, only manage a brief nod. 

“Your guy’s name is Cannon Isaacson. Here’s the best address to find him,” Philip says shortly, but a small smirk flashes over his features as he hands over a post-it note with the name and address scrawled out. 

“Thanks, you're the best, Philly Cheese Steak,” Harper remarks, smiling down at him, and his face darkens slightly.

“Alright, get out of here before I have you both detained,” Philip practically growls, effectively causing the girls to turn on their heel and dart out of the room.

“Love you, bye!” Maisie throws over her shoulder before looking at Harper right as they both burst into laughter, causing Harper to lose her footing momentarily and stumble straight into Danny. 

He catches her before she has a chance to fall and gives her a charming grin. “I feel something is  _ brewing _ between us, like the coffee I made for you this morning.” 

“A cute guy using a cute pick-up line about coffee? Damn, pick me up at seven for our coffee date,” Harper says with a soft laugh.

“Harper, I think we’re a little busy with catching kidnappers,” Maisie interjects coolly. 

“Ah, shit, you're right. Let's make it tomorrow then, Danny,” Harper returns. Maisie, having watched this awkward attempt at flirting long enough, just heads through the exit. “But seriously, coffee date tomorrow,” Harper reaffirms as she gives him a pointed look.

Danny lets out a small laugh, “Alright, I'll text you later about it.” Harper doesn't say anything but shoots finger guns at him with two quick snaps, as she backs towards the exit after Maisie, causing laughter to roll out of Danny. He reciprocates the gesture, giving her a wink before she disappears through the doors, smiling. 

Danny shakes his head, then immediately straightens and turns at the sound of Philip calling his name. Philip holds him with his steely gaze for a solid minute before speaking, “Don't look so pleased with yourself; it's about damn time.”

 


	2. She's Beauty, She's Grace, She'll Punch You In The Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Don't Bring That Trouble by NEEDTOBREATHE
> 
> This was originally going to be together with chapter one, but when we realized nobody wants to stop and read a 10k fic in one sitting, we split it up. And here, you finally get your dose of the boys! Feedback, or just crazy asks, are always welcomed :P -Hope
> 
> Hope you enjoy the ending :P send us your theories if you have any! -mara

* * *

A bold, silver-lettered sign is placed above the double doors leading into the building at the address Philip gave them. Harper and Maisie both inhale sharply at the sight.

“I love Philip,” Maisie beams.

“I can't believe him,” Harper grumbles.

The sign reads, _‘Hunk-O-Mania.’_

“What do you say we get our hunk on,” Maisie giggles, waggling her eyebrows, to which Harper responds by rolling her eyes.

“Three cups of coffee is not enough for this,” Harper says, turning back to the truck. “Come on, Mais, it's a strip club, we’re not going to find anything useful in there while the sun is up.”

“I guess you're right. I’m starving anyway,” Maisie concedes and starts toward the truck after Harper.

“Fries before guys?” Harper questions.

“Cakes before mates. Or in this case, bundts before hunks,” Maisie quips with a grin.

“You ruined it,” Harper returns, but she can't hide the small laugh that bubbles up.

Driving passed various dining options that caused multiple heated arguments, the girls finally opt for a new diner downtown they had yet to experience. Harper pulls the truck into the first empty parking space they spot, coming to a stop next to a sleek, classic, black Impala.

“Oooh, what a babe,” Maisie admires as they exit the truck and make their way towards the small diner. Once inside, they scan the seating to the left and right of the door, before spotting an empty booth to the right towards the back of the room and heading to claim it.

The girls sink into the seats opposite of one another, and not seeing any menus on the table, they wait for someone to make it over to them. After a good five minutes, Harper throws her hands up exasperatedly.

“I gotta pee, order me a coffee if anyone comes by today,” she says before getting up and heading to the bathroom. Just as the door swings shut behind Harper, a tall, brown shaggy-haired guy walks out of the men’s room, and after glancing around one last time to make sure no one was already headed towards their table, Maisie gets up as well and follows behind him to the front.

Coming to the front counter, Maisie overhears the shaggy-haired guy talking to a slightly shorter and stockier man leaning against the front counter.

“You pay already?” The taller one asks.

“Yup. Just waiting for my pie. Gettin’ me a fresh piece,” the shorter one says, sounding a little giddy, Maisie notes; she then sets to waiting as she realizes a waiter would be back shortly. The shaggy-haired man huffs and informs his companion he will be waiting in the car, before turning and walking out the door.

After a few seconds Maisie feels the other man’s eyes on her. She peeks out of the corner of her eye to see him roving over her form freely, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips. She shifts to face him and meets his stunning gaze, easily giving him a warm smile. She lets her own gaze travel briefly over his features, looking over his dark suit then taking in his light, honey brown hair, cut much shorter than his friend’s. He has shining emerald eyes, a spattering of freckles across his face, and a strong jaw covered by a light shadow of stubble.

“Too bad we’re not at a bar so I could buy you a drink,” he starts smoothly, making Maisie laugh softly and shrug.

“I’d be happier with pie, honestly.” At this, the man’s smirk widens to a grin; he takes a step forward, starting to offer his hand, when the waiter comes back and hands him a small to-go container, effectively interrupting their introduction.

The man looks apologetic as he turns away to take his pie, then he pulls his wallet out and grabs a few bills, sliding them towards the waiter.

“And a piece of your best pie for…” He trails off looking to Maisie expectantly.

“Maisie,” she offers.

“Awesome,” the man grins again. “For Maisie,” he finishes. The waiter just nods and accepts the money, inserting it into the cash register and returning the way he'd come.

“Hope I see you around, Maisie, enjoy the pie,” the man says, giving her a wink as he starts towards the door.

“I'll be sure to think of you as I savor it,” Maisie returns with a playful smirk. He shakes his head, then with one last smile in her direction, turns and exits the diner. Maisie watches him for a moment longer, noticing his bowlegged walk, and the phrase ‘hate to see you leave, love to watch you go’ quickly comes to her mind. She bites on her bottom lip and turns back to the counter, anticipating the return of the waiter.

She isn’t left waiting for long as the waiter returns swiftly with her pie in hand. Before he gets a chance to disappear again, Maisie orders a coffee for Harper and asks for menus to be brought along with the coffee to their table. She makes her way back to their table and slides in on her side, facing an impatient-looking Harper.

“Glad to see you're enjoying your sister’s suffering. I'm sure you're gonna love that pie,” Harper quips bitterly. Maisie quickly shakes off the small smile she hadn't realized she was sporting, before picking up her fork and taking a bite.

“Mmmm I _love_ this pie,” Maisie brags exaggeratedly. Harper scowls in return. “It's not my fault you had to go to the bathroom while I was ordering your coffee and flirting with Mr. Perfect face,” Maisie continues, scooping another bite of pie into her mouth. At this, Harper perks up slightly.

“Mr. Perfect face?” Harper queries and Maisie nods resolutely.

“Perfect face. Complete with freckles, a killer jawline, and these stunning eyes. God, I could stare at him for days on end,” Maisie replies dreamily. “Bought me the pie too!” She beams. However intrigued Harper usually would have been, this time her bitterness wins out; rolling her eyes, she continues to frown at Maisie.

Maisie remains unfazed, proceeding to savor her pie. Suddenly Harper's eyes light up as the waiter finally approaches their table and sets Harper’s coffee in front of her, followed by two menus.

After the waiter disappears, the girls browse the menus and Harper begins discussing the pressing situation at hand. “So, I guess we should head over to the abduction sites after eating. How does that sound?”

Maisie nods. “Yeah, it’ll help pass the time til’ we get to the juicy stuff,” Maisie waggles her eyebrows. “And maybe we can find something more to help us catch the son of a bitch,” she adds more somberly.

* * *

 

After a satisfactory meal at the diner, now rated four stars by Harper and Maisie, one star deducted by Harper for the poor waiting time; the sisters perform a thorough search of the abduction sites, which come up empty, then head back to _Hunk-O-Mania_. The sign is now lit up with neon lights, insinuating the club is open.

Maisie hops out eagerly and wastes no time making it to the building while Harper trails behind grudgingly, taking a quick stock of the building before entering behind Maisie. Once inside, they are soon greeted by a tall, lean, tan-skinned man, wearing only a pair of low hanging jeans.

“Hello, ladies, welcome to _Hunk-O-Mania_ ,” he flexes each of his pecs as he says the name, making Maisie snort and Harper scrunch her nose in distaste. “Can I show you ladies to a good time?” His winning smile never falters.

“No, you can show us to your boss. FBI,” Harper retorts, whipping out her badge for him to see, encouraging a grinning Maisie to follow suit. The man’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Uh, yes, Agents, right this way.” He turns, leading them passed tables of women laughing and taking shots, and up a flight of stairs. He knocks on an open glass door leading into a spacious room, only somewhat resembling an office, with matching glass windows lining the room, giving a view of the club downstairs.

“Hey, boss, FBI here,” the man nods towards Maisie and Harper. A neatly dressed oriental man, with highly pronounced cheekbones, looks over at them from where he stands looking out of one of the large windows.

“Thank you, Thunder D,” he nods at him, the ghost of an amused smirk touching his lips. “Please, come in, ladies,” the boss beckons them.

“Agents Finch and Fitz,” Harper says with authority, revealing their badges and letting him glance over them before the girls put them away.

“Huong Jun Seo,” he replies politely. He extends his hand; Maisie and Harper each take their turns, firmly shaking it. “How can I help you, agents?”

Harper pulls out the photo of Cannon Isaacson, the blonde-headed man from the security cameras, and hands it to Huong. “Have you seen him lately? We need to ask him a few questions.”

He glances over the photo before handing it back to Harper. “He’s missed work four nights in a row now. You won’t find him here.”

“Any clue as to where we can find him or who else we should talk to?” Maisie asks. Huong looks thoughtful for a moment before answering.

“I don’t know where you can find him, but the last week or so before he stopped coming in, there was a man that had started to become fairly regular and seemed to take a liking to him. One of the other performers can probably give you more to go on,” Huong adds.

“Okay, thank you for your time, Mr. Seo. Here's how you can reach us if you remember anything else.” Harper hands him a card with their business number. He takes it and nods in acquiescence.

“Of course, agents. I would appreciate it if you could be discreet. If it's all the same to you, ” Huong concludes. The girls agree as they make their way out of his office and head back down the stairs, looking for the next person to question.

Maisie makes eye contact with one of the hunks and starts making her way toward him with a hesitant Harper trailing behind. “Hey,” Maisie says with a suave smile. The hunk smiles back and opens his mouth to reply only to have Harper cut him off before he utters a word.

“Mind if we ask you a few questions?” Harper asks, revealing her FBI badge and giving him a forced smile. Maisie gives a small pout in Harper's direction as she follows suit.

“Uh sure, what can I help you with?” He replies, after flicking his eyes between the two of them.

“I could think of a few things…” Maisie mumbles barely under her breath, earning an elbow in her ribcage from an unimpressed Harper.

“We’re looking for this man.” Harper provides the hunk with the picture of Cannon before continuing, “Mr. Seo informed us he was seen with a man who became fairly regular, and that one of you might be able to add to that information. What can you tell us?”

“Ahh, Mean Dean Dazzle,” the hunk says with a smirk.

“Mean Dean Dazzle?” Maisie asks puzzled while Harper only stares with her eyebrows scrunched together.

“Yeah, that's his stage name. One of our best performers if you ask me. Didn't even know he was gay until Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious started showing up,” he answers with a shrug.

“So they were involved?” Harper asks.

The hunk looks slightly conspiratorial as he replies, “As much as they were always eye fucking, I'd say definitely.” Maisie tries to hide her giggle and he grins at her, before frowning slightly. “Also, I think I saw them leave together that last night before Mean Dean skipped out on us,” he adds.

Harper nods then asks, “Did you happen to get a name for this ‘mysterious’ guy?”

“I think he's just Guy.”

“Yes, we have established he's a guy; I need a _name_ for the guy,” Harper shoots back exasperatedly.

The hunk just laughs as he responds, “Yeah, his name _is_ Guy.”

“Oh” is all Harper can manage. Maisie just shakes her head but manages not to laugh before she bails Harper out of her awkward predicament.

“Got any security cameras around here?”

“You lookin’ for some entertainment,” the hunk raises an eyebrow at her. Maisie smirks.

“Any other time I'd say you read my mind, but unfortunately today I'm working. We need to know what Guy looks like.”

“Well, can't help you there. Down here is a little too _dark_ for cameras,” the hunk concedes.

“Alright, thank you for your time. Maybe I'll see you around,” Maisie adds with grin.

“Anytime you want,” he quips, sending her a wink as she turns to go. Maisie can hear Harper groaning as they make their way to the exit.

“I'm sorry sis, did you want to hop on that? I'll back off, no worries,” Maisie teases patronizingly.

Harper attempts to ignore her by rushing forward, head down, but only manages to bump right into another shirtless male. She puts her hands up to push herself away but realizes her mistake when they land right on the man's bare chest, her face going red.

“Fuck me,” she mutters. The man raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth to speak, but Harper interjects, “No, not you!” She rolls her eyes and steps back, shooting a glare over her shoulder at a nearly hysterical Maisie. “Fuck off,” Harper says to her before storming out of the club and letting the door slam in Maisie’s face.

Once outside Harper takes a deep breath and goes to cross the street, but as she looks to make sure no vehicles are coming, she catches a glimpse of a gas station, right across from the side of the strip club. Maisie emerges through the club doors just as Harper changes course to head towards the gas station.

“Harp, where are you going? Wait up,” Maisie calls after her but Harper just continues in her determined strides.

“Ugh don’t be like this, Harper. I promise one day you’ll be laughing about it too,” Maisie insists, catching up with Harper and trying to match her pace.

“Look, I know that wasn’t the ideal situation for you, but you sure a gas station bathroom would be better than a strip club bathroom?” Maisie questions, hoping she can get something out of Harper to explain their intended direction. Harper just rolls her eyes and replies with a single word.

“Cameras,” she nods in the direction of the gas station. Maisie’s lips form an “O” and she nods slowly in understanding. They walk the remaining few feet in relative silence, the only sound being their feet hitting the concrete. Reaching the gas station, Maisie strides a few steps ahead to open the door and hold it for Harper.

“Suck up,” Harper chides as she passes Maisie, entering the building.

“First of all, you know that’s not true, you’ve just always been jealous that I have a naturally sweet disposition; second, why can’t I just do something considerate for my sister because I love her? Chivalry isn’t dead you know,” Maisie retorts, following Harper in and letting the door close behind her.

“Sweet is not the word I would use to describe you,” Harper shoots back with a small, sarcastic laugh. Before Maisie can respond, the clerk greets them with a resigned smile as she sets down her magazine.

“What can I help you with tonight?” Harper and Maisie pull out their badges once again as they come to the counter, and hold them up for her to see.

“Do you have security cameras that have a view of the club across the street?” Harper asks the middle aged woman, whose name tag reads ‘Sheri’. She thinks for a moment before answering.

“Yes, ma’am, I think we do have one.”

“Well, we’re going to need to take a look at some footage from it,” Harper informs her. The woman nods and shuffles over to where a keyboard and mouse rest, under a monitor set up facing partially towards her and partially towards the girls and the rest of the store.

“Have a particular date you’re looking for?” She asks.

“Five nights ago, probably pretty late, or early morning four days ago,” Harper replies. The clerk nods again and starts typing momentarily, before reaching to turn the monitor towards Maisie and Harper. The time stamp on the video reads eleven and Maisie asks Sheri to start slowly fast forwarding the footage.

After a few minutes, as the time stamp nears two in the morning, a nondescript, dark van pulls up to the side of _Hunk-O-Mania_. A few seconds later, what looks like their suspect exits the club through a side door and proceeds to the passenger side of the van, taking a brief look around him before he climbs inside. Right as the van starts to turn the corner and drive off, Harper directs Sheri to stop the footage.

“Bingpot!” Maisie practically shouts, making Sheri give a little yelp and even startling Harper. “Sorry… I’ll write the number down.” Maisie has the decency to look sheepish as she pulls out her notepad and diligently writes out all the letters and numbers she can make out from the van’s license plate.

“Well, thank you, Sheri. You’ve been very helpful. I hope you have a nice night,” Maisie smiles at the woman before she and Harper turn and exit the store.

“You have got to stop using that reference; there are so many more appropriate words,” Harper groans in complaint to Maisie’s outburst.

“You can pry it from my cold, dead hands,” Maisie declares.

“That can be arranged,” Harper counters.

* * *

 

Realizing that Philip won’t be at the police department until the morning, Harper and Maisie head home to check on Piper and get some rest. Once Harper puts the truck in park, Maisie hops out, heading inside without waiting. When Harper finally makes it into the house, Maisie is explaining to Piper the developments that had occurred in their investigation throughout the day and how much closer they are to finding Ellis.

“We’ll talk to Philip tomorrow morning and go from there, okay?” Maisie gives Piper a reassuring smile.

Harper runs a hand through her hair as she adds, “So, let's go get some sleep, and finish this tomorrow.”

Piper nods, looking defeated but hanging in there; Maisie wraps an arm around her, attempting to comfort her and leads her upstairs to bed.

Before Harper heads up to get herself to bed as well, she heads to the kitchen, whistling lightly as she checks Neptune and Gandalf's water bowls. Nodding satisfactorily, she waits until she hears the familiar tapping of the dogs paws against the smooth wood floors as they run to meet her and she heads toward the sound.

Upon seeing Neptune and Gandalf, Harper drops to one knee and smiles tiredly as they come to greet her, nuzzling against her arms.

“Hey, buddies, aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” Harper says, before dropping a quick kiss to Neptune’s head. She stands up again and heads towards the stairs, patting her thigh to signal to the dogs to follow her up.

“It's bedtime, boys,” she mumbles, trudging up the stairs. Once Harper conquers the stairs and arrives at her room, she immediately drops on top of her comforter, Neptune jumping up beside her.

She kicks off her boots and wiggles out of her jeans, plucking her phone from the pocket before they fall to the ground. As she plugs the charger into her phone for the night, Harper realizes she had better send Philip the license plate number tonight so he can get to it first thing in the morning.

As Harper unlocks her phone, she notices that she has an unread text messages from Danny. Staying true to his word, he texted her earlier in the night about their coffee date. But she was too busy working to even notice. Harper stares at the message for a moment, reading it a few times, but decides it will have to wait for now. Getting back on track, an exhausted Harper types out a quick, rather sloppy email with a picture of the license plate attached.

 

_Philip, need run license plate. Vampy suspect, p please. Vroom vroom motherfucker. Luv, u fav sister_

 

Looking back on this email at a later date, Harper will wonder what the fuck she was even doing. But in the end, it conveyed the message well enough; though much to the annoyance of Philip.

* * *

 

The next day, the three girls wait out the hours, which seem to go by agonizingly slow, until Philip comes through with the information they need to get to the vampires. The only thing remotely interesting while they waited was the momentary surprise of Arthur finally emerging from the guest room, and the girls trying to subtly cover up their eagerness for his departure by supplying him with breakfast to go. Once Arthur was packed in a cab that Maisie had called for him and sent on his way, Piper turns to Harper and Maisie looking puzzled.

“Was he here the whole time with me yesterday?” She asks. To which they shrug out a guilty apology and promise to let her watch her favorite movie to bide the time. “I think it’s about time for a Count of Monte Cristo fix,” Piper agrees, satisfied. Several classic movies and two take-out orders later, the phone call from Philip finally comes, along with the only known address attached to the owner of the van. It’s time to put down the pizza and pick up a machete.

The girls jump to their feet, grab everything they need, and are ready to jump in Harper’s truck when they notice Piper looking determined to head out that door with them. Harper and Maisie exchange looks before turning on Piper.

“Red, you have to stay put, it’ll be better for everyone if we’re not having to worry about you too,” Harper pleads using her nickname for her. Piper doesn’t budge, giving them a steely look.

“And I’ll be climbing the walls with worry if I’m stuck here.” She then focuses her stare on Maisie. “If you dare shut the door in my face, I will hotwire that damn mustang if I have to, and follow after you,” Piper threatens. Maisie’s eyes suddenly look as if they might pop out of her head.

“Okie dokie, well there’s no arguing with this one, I call shotgun,” Maisie almost shouts as she darts to the truck. Piper smirks and brushes passed a fuming Harper, who is inches away from punching something. Or someone.

Once everyone is seated in the truck, Harper peels out of the garage and towards the road without a word. Maisie quietly attempts to find a decent radio station, but just as she settles on one of her favorites, the classic rock station, Harper suddenly swats her hand away and turns the radio off.  

“Savage,” Maisie mutters under her breath as she sulkily looks outside, her arm resting on the rolled down window. She closes her eyes momentarily, the wind caressing her fingertips. But her fleeting moment of peace is interrupted when she feels the window pushing on her arm, and as her eyes snap open, she realizes Harper is rolling her window up. Quickly pulling her arm back into the cab of the truck, she side-eyes Harper with contempt while Harper continues to watch the road, looking unfazed. But Maisie could tell by her death grip on the steering wheel that Harper is still quietly seething.

After what feels like hours of a rocky silence, they can finally see their destination nearing. It was the complete opposite of anything they imagined a vampire hideout to be. There was an unlit sign, barely hanging on for dear life to the stone awning of the one-story building, that they could make out in the darkness to say, ‘ _Holy Cow_ ’.

“What the fuck?” Maisie sputters, as her eyes take in the life-size metal cow, backed by a rainbow twice its’ size, sitting on the roof of the seemingly deserted, one-story building. Pulling closer, Harper shuts off the headlights and eases into park caddy-corner to the ‘ _Holy Cow: Casino & Brewery _’.

Maisie and Piper both reach for their doors at the same time, but while Maisie hops out with no problem, Piper finds she can’t get her door to open. Before she starts to question what’s happening, Harper reaches into the back seat and snaps a pair of handcuffs on one of Piper’s wrists before fastening the other end to the hand-bar above the window. Harper pushes her door open then and turns back to see Piper’s expression go from surprise to anger.

“What the hell is this?” Piper exclaims.

“You really thought you could get away with threatening Maisie’s Sweetheart and pissing me off?” Harper retorts, glaring at her. “Maisie put the child lock on, easier to handcuff you that way. Now, stay in the fucking truck,” she adds angrily before slamming the door shut and locking the truck.

Maisie walks over to Harper, handing her a machete and brandishing her own specialized weapon of choice: a long whip of tightly packed plates of silver, with a thick strap of leather soaked in deadman’s blood wound around. And at the tip, a sharpened piece of iron is fastened on, for good measure.

The girls march toward the abandoned building, weapons in hand and ready for a fight. As they approach the front, muffled noises come from behind the closed doors, crashing and groans of pain. Harper and Maisie share a confused look before one of them signals to enter the desolate building.

Kicking the doors inwards and striding towards the chaos, the girls take a split second to take stock of their surroundings and the situation in front of them. Two machete-toting men are attempting to fight off three vampires, throwing punches and swinging wildly. Three dead bodies litter the ground with a fourth body tied up and slumped against a pillar.

Harper and Maisie jump into action after registering who the monsters are, wasting no time getting to the struggling hunters. Maisie heads for the vampire who had just thrown the shorter of the two hunters back onto a table left askew, effectively knocking his machete across the floor. Just as the vampire tries to go in for the kill, Maisie raises her arm, and with one expert flick of her wrist, her whip is wrapped around the vampire’s neck. The iron tip embedded in the vampire’s skin, Maisie yanks back hard on the whip, and with a grunt from Maisie and a brisk snap, the vampire’s head is severed.

Kicking the vampire’s useless body out of the way, Maisie steps up and extends her hand to the disarmed hunter, helping him regain his footing. Now face to face with the hunter, a grin spreads itself across Maisie’s face as she recognizes him to be the man from the diner who had bought her pie. A quiet look of awe is displayed on the man’s features, but before either of them can say anything, their attention is drawn by a cry coming from the taller hunter.

“Sam!” The hunter’s deep voice resonates across the dark space.

The second vampire is standing with its’ foot on the collapsed hunters ankle, his foot turned at a nasty angle. In the next moment, Harper rushes over from checking on the unconscious victim and delivers a swift blow across the vampire’s neck with her machete. Pushing off the lifeless body, Harper and the hunter, Sam, see each other clearly for the first time. He pushes his long brunette hair out of his face, making sure he is seeing a clear image of Harper. His hazel eyes widen in surprise and his lips part as he takes in her appearance. Stunned, she squints at him with the ghost of smile playing at the edges of her lips.

Suddenly, the crash of a heavy door echos through the room; Harper and Maisie instinctively run toward the sound, leaving the two hunters behind to take care of themselves. Maisie pushes through the door first, Harper right on her heels. But they are seconds too late as the last vampire speeds down the street.

“Dammit.”

“Shit,” Harper and Maisie curse at the same time.

Accepting the escape of the monster, they turn and head back into the building to confront their fellow hunters. Harper tries to contain her elated emotions as they walk towards Sam and his companion. Harper catches Sam’s questioning eyes, giving him a mischievous smile before addressing him.

“Well, after all these years, I almost thought I’d never see you again, Sam Winchester.”

 


	3. Pie Is The Way To The Heart (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Jane Doe by NeverShoutNever
> 
> This is the scene in the Diner that takes place in the beginning of chapter 2; but this time I’ve written it from Dean’s perspective, so there’s a bit more to it! Feedback is always hugely appreciated, I hope y’all love it! -Hope

* * *

 

“What?” Sam finally asks after ten minutes in silence at the diner.

“What?” Dean mimics.

Sam huffs and replies, “You've been brooding all day.”

“Like, the sexy kind?” Dean inquires.

“Dean.”

“Whatever. First, I don't brood. Unless it's the sexy kind. Second, even if I was, it's your fault.” Dean jabs a finger in Sam's direction.

“Of course, I called up the vamps and asked them to kill a couple of guys, just to piss you off,” Sam retorts with a roll of his eyes.

“Sass all you want. Some things are sacred, pilgrimages are sacred, Sam. Especially ones to Las Vegas. First, you run off to get married, then you go looking for this case!” Dean huffs this time, then piles his last few fries in his mouth.

“I’m not even going to start about the Becky thing. But I didn't go _looking_ for this case, I just… Came across it,” Sam shrugs.

“Yeah, like you don't use my laptop for porn,” Dean snorts through his mouth full of half chewed fries.

Sam wrinkles his nose in disgust before protesting Dean’s accusation. “That was not me, Dean! It could've been Crowley for all you know.”

“Right, Sam, just blame the devil.” Dean doesn't look _or_ sound impressed.

“He's not technically the devil… Forget it, I'm going to the bathroom, just get your pie so we can go.” Sam slides out of the booth and quickly heads to where he remembers seeing a restroom sign at the opposite side of the diner. Dean snorts in laughter at Sam’s retreating from, shaking his head.

“You make it too easy, Sammy.” Dean downs the last of his drink before getting up out of the booth and walking to the front counter. He looks over the options of pie while waiting for the cashier, deciding on the caramel-pecan apple pie. Dean is already licking his lips in anticipation as the cashier appears, and he relays his choice of pie, thrusting the money at the bored-looking man. As soon as the transaction is finished and the cashier disappears into the kitchen, Dean starts drumming his fingers on the countertop as he waits impatiently.

 Within the next minute, Sam walks back from the bathrooms, his unfortunately long hair swaying slightly along with his gait. “You pay already?” Sam questions as he stops in front of Dean.

“Yup. Just waiting for my pie. Gettin’ me a fresh piece,” Dean beams, unable to hide his glee over his favorite delicacy. Sam simply huffs a sigh replying with an unimpressed “I'll be in the car, waiting,” then strides out of the diner.

The moment Sam moves from his view, Dean’s eyes land on a striking sight. A woman with honey blonde hair, half braided into a bun, and half falling just past her shoulders. She is leaning her back against the counter, facing the wide, front window. The sunlight streaming through the glass seems to radiate from every inch of her lightly tanned and freckled skin. 

She is wearing a faded flannel of forest green and grey over a grey t-shirt, with some lettering he can't make out peeking over the top of a pair of light blue jean overalls. The overalls fit to her figure all the way to her ankles, where they are rolled up to graze the top of her ankle-combat boots. Dean doesn't know why, but he has the thought that this outfit was made perfectly for her. 

Dean’s eyes travel back up to her face, vaguely appreciating the soft definition of her high cheekbones before realizing how long he’s been staring. He doesn't get a chance to compose himself though, before she's turning to return his gaze, a smile easily gracing her lips. Dean can now make out most of the lettering visible on her t-shirt to read ‘ _Janis Joplin.’_ He is then pleased to see she’s just as interested by him as he was by her, as her eyes roam up and down his stature before resting warmly on his face, now adorned with a smirk.

“Too bad we’re not at a bar so I could buy you a drink,” Dean says, getting a soft laugh out of the woman before she shrugs.

“I’d be happier with pie, honestly,” she admits, the smile never leaving her face, though Dean’s smirk widens to a grin. He couldn't believe his luck, a gorgeous woman who apparently shared his love of pie. Dean steps forward, ready to introduce himself, but before he can give her his name or she can take his outstretched hand, the waiter reappears. He hands Dean a to-go box, forcing him to turn away from the woman and take his pie.

However, Dean is not ready to leave this woman just yet. He fishs his wallet back out of his pocket, grabbing enough money for another piece of pie and sliding them over to the waiter.

“And a piece of your best pie for…” He leaves his sentence unfinished as he looks back to the woman, eagerly hopeful that she’ll offer her name; he had to at least know her name.

“Maisie.” She thankfully obliges him. 

“Awesome. For Maisie,” he finishes with a reignited grin, no longer paying any attention the waiter. _Maisie._ He likes the way her name sounded; he felt lighter just saying it. Begrudgingly, Dean remembers Sam is waiting in the car and they have a job to do.

“I hope I see you around, Maisie. Enjoy the pie.” He winks at her even as he realizes the chances of ever seeing her again are thinner than Thinman. Dean walks toward the door but she catches his attention once more before he can leave.

“I’ll be sure to think of you as I savor it,” she claims cheesily, with a smirk to match. Dean shook his head, though he couldn’t help shooting her a last, parting smile before he continues on through the doors. Though he wouldn’t allow himself another glance back, Maisie’s smile lingers on his mind the rest of the day. 

“What are you so happy about? You haven’t even started on your pie,” Sam asks quizzically, as Dean shuts the door and sets his pie laden to-go box down on the seat between them. A light grin permeates Dean’s features as he gives a simple, one-word reply.

“Maisie.”

 


	4. Tu Me Manques

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star
> 
> Have you guessed how Harper and Sam met? ;) cause you’ll find out in this part! -mara
> 
> Brace yourselves because the ships are setting sail!! I.e. fluff will ensue :) Please let us know what you think! -Hope

* * *

 

“H-Harper…?” Sam’s eyes are wide, filled with a hundred unspoken questions. “It’s been, what? Ten years?”

“Twelve,” Harper corrects immediately; he smiles at her softly.

“Harper,” Maisie interrupts weakly, diverting Harper’s attention to where Maisie is kneeling beside a body on the ground. Her heart drops as she walks around Maisie to see who it is.

“Oh no, Ellis,” Harper exhales heavily.

“You need to get Piper,” Maisie says, a quiver building in her voice. Her hands start to shake as she reaches down to close Ellis’ eyes. Harper squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before turning back to Sam.

“Wait for me outside. I’ll pull my truck up, and we’ll go get you patched up.” She nods down at the foot he is actively keeping his weight off of; she then walks briskly out of the door before Sam or his companion can protest or agree.

“Is that _the_ Harper, from you know..?” The shorter hunter, supporting Sam, starts to question.

“Yeah,” Sam answers quickly. “You heard her, Dean. Outside,” he adds with a nod at the doors. Dean helps Sam walk to the doors, but not before he shoots a quick, concerned glance at Maisie, still kneeling beside Ellis with her face hidden in her hands.

Sam and Dean emerge through the front doors just as Harper is jumping out of her truck then walks around to the passenger side. She opens the passenger door for Sam, and Dean helps him in, whispering, “You behave,” with a quick wink before shutting the door after him.

“Can you go grab the unconscious guy from inside? Sam and I will drop him off on the way,” Harper asks Dean as he walks around the truck and back toward the door.

He stops and looks back at her, just as she opens the back passenger door, revealing Piper handcuffed in the backseat. “What the…”

“No time to explain,” Harper dismisses. “Almost-dead guy, remember? Go.”

Dean raises his eyebrows but turns back to follow through with her commands.

Harper releases Piper from her restraints. “Maisie’s waiting for you inside,” she says quietly, her expression unreadable. Piper takes off without a second glance, yanks the front doors open, and almost runs Dean over in her panicked rush.  

Dean quickly steps aside to avoid impact, clinging to the weight of the unconscious man in his arms. Piper’s vision seems to tunnel as she sights a slightly shaking Maisie, kneeling beside a man. Maisie raises her head suddenly as she hears Piper stumbling in her direction. Reaching them, Piper falls straight to her knees, then lifts Ellis’ head onto her lap. With trembling hands, Piper strokes Ellis’ cold cheeks and begins to shake her head harshly.

Outside, after getting the man in the backseat of Harper’s truck, Dean waves Sam and Harper off. He watches until the truck disappears around the corner before heading back inside to clean up the mess of bodies. The first thing to greet him is the desperate sound of Piper’s cries.

“No. No, no! You can’t go!” Piper sobs as she clutches onto Ellis. Her breathing comes out faster, and her shaking starts to turn almost violent. Maisie grabs Piper’s shoulders and pulls her away from the sight of Ellis, hugging her to herself and whispering pleas to breathe through her own surge of tears.

Dean silently stands by the door, deciding to start cleaning up the other bodies, when the door creaks open. A man, only a bit shorter than Dean and sporting a tan trench coat, walks in and glances around the room.

“Great timing, Cas,” Dean greets only half sarcastically. “You can help clean up.”

Cas looks from Dean to the two girls crying across the room and gives a slight tilt of his head, squinting his eyes at the sight. “Should we… Attempt to console them?” Cas asks quietly.

Dean shrugs unconvincingly and starts walking towards one of the decapitated bodies. “Come on, Cas,” he grunts as he slings the body over his shoulder and grabs the head with his free hand.

Cas walks forward, reaching Ellis’ body in a few long strides; he drops down to one knee to grab his shoulders. But as he begins lifting him up, Piper releases a strangled cry in protest, causing Cas to pause and notice something slip out of Ellis’ pocket. He gently lays the body back down to grab the mysterious item, a small velvet box.

Still on one knee, Cas looks up at Piper and holds out the box to her. “Um, forgive me. Is this yours?”

Distracted by Cas’ discovery, Piper’s tears subside for the moment as she walks numbly toward him and takes the box from his hands without uttering a sound. She stares into his innocently shining eyes before looking blankly down at the small box in her hand, but her overwhelmed mind isn’t working. No answer, as to what it was, would come to her. Instead, she opens it slowly to reveal a gold ring, set with a single, perfect opal. An engagement ring. The realization crashes down, hard and swift, breaking the dam behind Piper’s eyes once again.

Turning back, Piper holds out the box for Maisie to see, her other hand covering her trembling lips. “Oh, Red,” Maisie’s voice cracks, keeping her own tears at bay, as she walks toward Piper to cling to her once again.

Cas quietly walks away to start with hauling a different body and let the girls be for now.

After collecting all but Ellis’ body and piling them outside, Dean comes over to lay a gentle hand on Maisie’s shoulder, promoting her to relinquish her hold on Piper and return to the ugly business at hand.

“What do you want to do with bodies? And…” Dean looks down at Ellis momentarily. “What about him?” He finishes discreetly.

“His name is Ellis,” Piper huffs. Dean simply ducks his head and mumbles an apology before looking back at Maisie.

“We can take them to my house. I’ll ride with you and give you directions. You have room for Piper too, right?” Maisie asks. Dean nods and after picking up Ellis’ body, leads the way to the Impala.

“Let’s get these vamps in your truck,” Dean says to Cas as he carefully lays Ellis back down. Maisie walks Piper over to the Impala and settles her in the back seat before turning back to help Dean and Cas load the bodies. Once Ellis’ body is the only one left, Maisie heaves a sigh as she turns to Cas.

“Can you wait until we get down the road to load Ellis in with the rest? We’ll wait at the end of the street for you to follow.” Maisie looks at Dean to make sure he’ll comply while waiting for Cas to confirm.  

“Very well.” Cas nods before adding sincerely, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks, um…” Maisie trails off and looks at him questioningly, but when he doesn’t offer his name, Dean fills her in.

“This is Cas.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Maisie reiterates, managing to muster a small, yet tired smile.

Then, as Maisie and Dean turn back to the Impala, Dean finally introduces himself. “And I’m Dean, by the way.”

Maisie nods with a quick smile in his direction. Once she slides into the passenger seat of the Impala and Dean starts to pull out onto the road, Maisie scrunches her eyebrows together.

“Wait, like, Mean Dean Dazzle?”

* * *

 

Meanwhile, after dropping off the injured man at the hospital, Harper and Sam head to the house, finally able to talk without being overheard by the stranger. Sam glances over at her, a small smile playing at the corner of lips.

Harper notices the look on his face and can’t help smiling back. “What’s with that look?”

“I don’t know. I just haven’t seen you since Stanford. I guess I missed you.” Sam shifts in his seat until his shoulders are squared off toward her.

“Yeah, well you disappeared after Jess died. Didn’t even say good bye,” Harper replies, her tone coming out a mix of bitterness and hurt.

His smile drops. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something.”

Harper nods, suddenly trying to solely focus on driving. Talking about her college days brings up things she hadn’t thought of or felt in years. She didn’t like thinking about the pain that Sam had caused when he left without any word. She remembers her anxiety and sadness over his disappearance. She tries to the push the memory out.

“I had no idea you were hunter,” Sam speaks up, breaking the silence between them. “When did you start hunting?”

Harper shifts in her seat, made uncomfortable by the question; it brings up more memories, especially the one she flashed back to, when driving home with Maisie and an injured Arthur. “Found out about monsters when I was seven. It’s how I met Maisie.”

Surprise crosses over Sam’s face. “You hunted in college?”

Harper nods. “Of course, my life revolves around hunting. And Maisie.”

“Wow... huh, I feel like I should’ve known that.” Sam looks out the windshield for a moment before looking back at Harper, as if waiting for her to say something, but she stays silent, unsure what to say next. She didn’t understand why she is being so nervous around Sam. They were friends in college. Good friends. This shouldn’t be weird, but Harper couldn’t shake her anxiety at seeing him again.

Sam takes note of her silence, examining her expression to try to decipher her thoughts. “Everything okay? I don’t remember you being this quiet,” he adds, trying to tease her and lighten her mood.

Harper smiles shyly. “I’m not sure what to make of this... Seeing you again. I mean, It’s strange. I didn’t expect to see you again after you left and never even called.”

“Good or bad kind of strange?” Sam questions curiously.

“I haven’t decided, yet,” she drags out the last word, teasingly. She is in no state to delve into the feelings for Sam she had thought were long buried. Sam shakes his head, amused.

“I really am sorry for disappearing on you,” he adds.

“I might just have to make sure your foot stays broken until you promise to keep in touch this time,” Harper says; although this is only the safest wording for how she really felt. If she is honest with herself, she didn’t want to lose Sam Winchester again.

“Man, I really did miss you,” Sam says, with laughter in his voice and his dimples making a stunning appearance.

“Fuck, those goddamn dimples,” Harper mumbles under her breath.

“What was that?” Sam tilts his head in her direction, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. Harper clears her throat nervously, her cheeks turning a shade darker. Sam lets out a laugh at her reaction, causing Harper to relax and smile at the sound of his laughter. She had missed him, too.

The rest of the drive back to the Safehouse is filled with Sam’s choice in music, which he was all too happy to provide, and friendly banter, now that Harper’s nerves had calmed. Sam’s curious eyes follow the view of the house as Harper pulls the truck into the driveway. She asks him to wait while she grabs him crutches from inside, knowing she wouldn’t able to support his weight due to their height differences. She returns quickly with the crutches, and they make their way inside to the medically-equipped room.

Sam hops onto the gurney, sitting quietly as to not distract Harper from her task of setting his broken foot. She wraps it before attempting to give him some painkillers, but he tries to turn her down.

“I prefer whiskey, if you have any,” Sam says, half-jokingly, but Harper sees through his smirk.

She glares at him. “No. Doctor’s orders,” she retorts and shoves her hand closer to him, raising her eyebrows, as if daring him to defy her. Sam complies though, swallowing down the pills. “Come on, let’s go ice your foot.”

Sam follows Harper out of the room with the help of the crutches and plops down on the couch when they reach the living room. Sam’s eyes wander around the open downstairs, admiring the spacious living room equipped with a projector screen lined on each side by tall, movie-filled shelves. He watches Harper over the counter separating the kitchen from the living room, as she grab an ice pack.

“Nice house,” Sam compliments as Harper stares down at him, occupying the entirety of the couch. Instead of pushing his legs off to make room for herself, she lifts his legs, carefully as not to bump his injured foot. To Sam’s surprise, Harper slides onto the couch, gently dropping his legs over her lap. As soon as she sat down, Harper’s sleek, white German Shepherd, Neptune, comes bounding to her. Sam’s face lights up immediately as he sits up, trying to get a better view of the dog.

“You have a dog?” Sam asks eagerly.

“No, after you left, I changed my major to robotics,” Harper sasses, attempting a deadpan expression, but the boyish look on Sam’s face wears her down, making her break out into a grin. “Yeah, this is Neptune.” Sam reaches out his hand and Neptune takes to him without hesitation, pawing closer to lick his hand a few times, before lying down in front of the couch.

Harper finally remembers to place the ice pack on his foot and grabs the TV controller. She immediately turns on the History channel, an episode of _American Pickers_ displaying across the projection screen.

“This feels familiar,” Sam comments, smiling as she looks over at him. Harper rolls her eyes in response, trying to hide a smile by focusing on the TV. But everything seems to fall out of focus as she remembers the last time they did exactly this.

 

_A twenty year old Harper sat on a twenty-two year old Sam’s tattered, old couch in the apartment he shared with Jess. His legs were draped over Harper’s lap, her arms resting against them. They were watching their favorite channel, the History channel, like always. None of their other friends understood her enjoyment of this like Sam did. This was their thing._

_But more and more these days, Harper found herself watching Sam rather than paying attention to the show. A small smile played at her lips as she glanced at him. He caught her gaze this time and smiled back._

_“Thanks for letting me hang out,” Harper said over the sound of TV._

_Sam nodded. “Anytime. I know how much you hate Halloween. It’s kind of nice having someone who shares my distaste for it.”_

_She smiled. “Yeah, it is.”_

_Grabbing the remote, Sam lowered the volume, his face turning serious as he looked at her. “What makes_ you _hate Halloween? I was a little surprised you wanted to hang out tonight, considering how you kind of… I guess, shut down around this time.”_

_Harper’s expression fell, an underlying sadness taking place on her features. Her heart started thundering in her chest. Should she tell him? Her mouth went dry at the thought of admitting the words out loud after so long, but she trusted Sam, more than she trusted anyone outside of her family. Harper looked down and picked at a loose thread on Sam’s jeans as she steeled herself to speak. The ever-patient Sam only sat and waited quietly, his reassuring gaze washing over her. That look alone reminded her why she had fallen in love with him._

_His comforting presence gave her the courage to regale the story of who had ruined Halloween for her. But at the moment she opened her mouth to speak, Jess walked in._

_Guilt washed over Harper as she looked down at her and Sam’s position. Even though Jess was never the jealous type, Harper was always concerned she would accidentally cross the line, forcing Jess to push Harper out of her and Sam’s lives._

_“Hey, Harper,” Jess greeted her before turning her attention to Sam. “Baby, we have that Halloween party tonight, remember?” She hinted with a pointed smile, then walked into the bedroom._

_Harper patted Sam’s legs, signalling him to swing them off, then stood up with him following suit._

_“We’ll talk about this later, I promise, okay?” Sam checked to make sure Harper was on the same page._

_She nodded, giving him a haunted smile. As if sensing her discomfort, he pulled her into his arms for a tight hug. She took a deep breath to steady her heightened nerves, breathing in his familiar scent._

_They backed away from one another, and Harper headed toward the door, stopping short to look back once more. “Congratulations again, Sam,” she referred to his LSAT scores._

_He ducked his head, smiling. “Thanks, Harp. I’ll see you tomorrow.”_

_She walked away, feeling more content than she had in a long while around this time of year. All thanks to Sam. But little did she know, she wouldn’t see him tomorrow. She wouldn’t see him for twelve years._

 

Harper’s focus comes back to the present as she hears the front door open. She looks down at Sam’s legs and back up to meet Maisie’s gaze first. Maisie’s eyes flick to Sam for a brief second before looking at Harper with a tired smile. Harper notices how strange it is that Maisie continues past them without any comment. But as Piper comes through the door next and walks straight up the stairs without any acknowledgement, the gravity of tonight’s situation crashes down on Harper. Next, guilt washes over her; being with Sam after all these years had effectively distracted her from everything else.

Dean trails behind Piper, making eye contact with Sam immediately. His gaze examines his brother, making sure he is okay, before fully realizing his position next to Harper. Dean shoots Sam a wink as a sly grin spreads across his face. Sam ignores him, but after seeing the exchange, Harper feels more awkward. Then a completely new face comes into view behind Dean, and Harper raises an eyebrow questioningly.

“Hello, I am Castiel,” the newcomer says to Harper in a gravelly voice, before continuing on to follow Maisie and Piper up the stairs.

“Uh, nice to meet you?”  Harper returns to his back. Dean rolls his eyes at Cas’ lack of people skills, but Sam just laughs and tries to explain.

“He’s our friend, and well… An angel,” Sam offers as he watches Harper’s reaction, her eyes growing wide.

“An angel?” Her voice is curious and she wiggles under Sam’s legs, trying to steal another glance of Cas.

Sam grunts at her movement. “Stop moving, you’re going to hit my foot.”

Harper stills immediately, feeling guilty. “Sorry, but you just casually mentioned that your friend’s an angel. What did you expect from me?” She pokes him in the leg while giving him a look.

A smile spreads across Sam’s lips. “To ask questions, not re-injure me.”

Harper and Sam continue on with their flirty banter, but Dean has moved on, deciding to follow the others upstairs and see what else there was to the house. As he nears the top of the staircase, he hears Cas talking with Maisie.

“...Check on her?” Dean guesses Cas is asking about Piper.

“Sure, Cas.” Now, at the top of the stairs, Dean could see Maisie in a room to the left, pointing down the hall as she tells Cas which door to look for. Following her instructions, Cas crosses the hall and enters the second room down.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Cas says to Piper over the soft music playing, her tear-streaked face turning toward him. Walking closer to where she sat on Maisie’s bed, Cas reaches down to softly pat her shoulder. “I am sure it will be all right. He is in a better place.” As Cas starts to retract his hand, he sees another occupant on the bed, a white and grey siberian husky with ice-blue eyes.

“Really, how would you know?” Piper shoots back, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation at the peculiar man whose name she had yet to learn. Cas starts to reach for the dog, but it suddenly jumps from the bed, out of Cas’ reach, and exits the room.

“Because I am an angel of The Lord, I have seen most of the heavens. They are the soul’s most treasured memories,” Cas replies patiently, returning his attention to the redhead. Piper’s gaze turns misty, drifting slightly upwards.

“I wonder what he’s seeing,” Piper says, too exhausted to question Cas’ out-of-world statement.

“I would be happy to find out for you,” he offers. Piper seems to come back to reality and meets Cas’ eyes.

“Who are you?” Piper asks, not in accusation, but innocent curiosity.

“Castiel, an angel of The Lord” is his matter-of-fact answer. Piper only nods, but continues to stare openly into his cobalt eyes. After a minute, Cas starts to squirm under her gaze, feeling she could see his very essence. He begins looking at his surroundings, noticing almost every inch of wall is covered in some kind of poster or art, arranged like pieces of a perfectly, chaotic mosaic. There are different sized paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, while strings of Christmas lights line the edge of the ceiling.

Maisie’s bed sits in the middle of the room, against the wall opposite of the door, with a white-paned window above it. Covering the window are a pair of pastel yellow curtains decorated with daisies; though the middles of the flowers had black skulls. On the right side of the room is the bathroom, and a desk carrying a portable record player, stacks of records, and several kinds of earphones; on the left side is a walk-in closet. Lining the wall next to the bed are low shelves filled with CDs and tapes with the covers taken out and made into a collage on the wall above them.

After Cas is finished giving the room a thorough once-over, he finally takes in the tune of the music Piper is playing. “This sounds doleful.” Piper nods slowly, her eyes now having taken an interest in the floor.

“I think it is. Maisie says it’s not supposed to if you just let it wash over you and not think too much about it. But I always think too much about everything. I think if she had listened to it when Tommy Fitz died, she would have thought it was sad,” Piper addresses, somberly.

Cas’ head takes on its signature tilt as he asks, “Who is Tommy Fitz?”

“Someone from her past. Very tragic.” Piper’s eyes seem to go slightly wider after she admits this. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying all this. I hardly talk this much, especially… I don’t even know you,” Piper mumbles off.

“I am Castiel, an angel of The Lord. Friend and ally of the Winchesters against evil. There is not much else to know.” Cas shrugs in return.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Piper counters softly with a quick glance back up at Cas. This time, Cas did not feel the need to look away.

Meanwhile, after excitedly admiring the gun room that Dean had found Maisie in, he is treated to a tour of the rest of the house. Maisie starts by showing Dean up an iron, spiral staircase in the middle of the gun room that leads into the attic, which served as a library. The tall bookshelves line each wall and conform to the slope of the ceiling, in the somewhat, narrow space. A few smaller shelves make a couple of rows in the middle of the room. Directly behind the staircase at the forefront of the house is a small bay window, harboring a cozy reading nook. The only other setting in the room is a rectangular table accompanied by a chair on each side. Dean inspects a section of their lore collection, coming away impressed; they even had a couple of volumes he thought only the Men of Letters library possessed.

“A whole room just for books. Sammy is gonna be in nerd heaven,” Dean assures, also thinking that Sam might break something else trying to get up here.

“Yeah, it’s Harper’s favorite room,” Maisie discloses.

“So, who exactly are you guys?” Dean’s curiosity finally bubbles out.

“We’re the Raven sisters, bitch.” Maisie’s immediate, blunt reply causes Dean’s eyebrows to shoot up. Maisie laughs at the look on his face.

“I was five, and Harper was seven when a hunter couple saved us from a vampire nest. The couple couldn’t save our families, so they took us in, raised us as foster sisters the only way hunters know how: in the life. We changed our last name to Raven because it’s more badass and mysterious. After our hunter friends, Jo and Ellen, died and their roadhouse was gone, we wanted to open up this place, honor their memory. And now we help hunters who go and get themselves in too deep. And occasionally we take out a few evil sons of bitches on our own.” Dean’s lips are slightly parted once Maisie finishes her overview of their life.

“You knew Jo and Ellen?” Dean’s voice is quiet.

“Most of my life. Jo was like another sister to me and Harper.” Maisie stares steadily at Dean, her face unreadable. She had heard the story of how Ellen and Jo had died; she could guess all the gears that were probably turning in Dean’s mind.

“Wow, I'm… I'm sorry. They were good friends of ours,” Dean admits before his gaze slides to the floor.

“I know. I’m sorry, too. It wasn't your fault, though.” Dean flicks his eyes back up to Maisie, and her face softens into a sympathetic smile, pulling at the corner of her lips.

They climb back down the spiral staircase and find the Siberian Husky waiting. “This is my boy, Gandalf,” Maisie beams as Gandalf and Dean eye each other carefully.

Next, with Gandalf following close, Maisie points out the rest of the rooms on the second floor. Harper’s room is across the hall from Maisie’s. Then next to Maisie’s room is a guest room. She informs Dean he can use it but warns him that he’ll have to share her bathroom, since it conjoins with the guest room. They walk back down the stairs to the first floor, and Maisie shows Dean the downstairs guest room, another bathroom, and the infirmary, all off the right side of the stairs. Off to the left is the kitchen and living room which is split by kitchen counters and a small bathroom.

Maisie walks into the living room in front of the projector, showing it off to Dean. “This is my baby. You haven’t really seen Captain America until you’ve watched him up close on this bad boy,” she brags, making Dean laugh and give her a thumbs-up.

“Maisie, do you have to do show-and-tell right in front of us?” Harper complains at Maisie blocking her and Sam’s view of the screen. Maisie just rolls her eyes and leads Dean to the large kitchen. Dean gives an appreciative whistle as he looks around.

“This could even rival our kitchen back home,” he says.

“You like to cook? Well, you can knock yourself out in the morning and cook breakfast,” Maisie replies with a small grin.

After Dean is finished admiring the kitchen and agreeing to cook breakfast, Maisie shows him through the back door that leads onto a screened-in porch overlooking the backyard, spotted with tall trees every few feet. There’s an area a little ways from the porch, cleared of trees for the sizeable fire pit.  

“We can burn the vamps back here,” Maisie states.

“What about that friend of yours, uh, Ellis?” Dean asks. Maisie heaves a sigh.

“The closest friend we’ve had in years besides Piper. They were supposed to get married, hopefully leave all this behind, live happily ever after and shit,” she replies, bitterness tinging her tone by the last word.

“Sorry about that. Guess that’s why _I_ can’t ever get out, ‘cause the minute I do, more people lose that chance.”

Maisie nods slowly, agreeing with Dean’s attempt at some kind of solace, however meager. Finally, they turn back inside and head to get Cas and Harper to help with the bodies. The vampire corpses are piled in a secluded spot toward the back of the property, burning sufficiently before they start on a pyre for Ellis. Once it’s completed and Ellis is placed on top, Maisie disappears into the house and reappears a few minutes later with Piper at her side and even Sam, hobbling out behind them on his crutches.

Harper comes to Piper’s other side when they’ve reached the pyre, while Dean, Sam, and Cas stand slightly behind them. Pulling out her wooden matches, Harper steps forward and strikes the match until it's lit. She stares at the small flame for a moment, wishing this day would have ended differently. Quiet doubts fill the back of Harper’s mind, wondering if she could've done something more to save Ellis before it was too late. She pushes those thoughts away; they did their best.

Too bad it wasn't enough.

With that last thought, Harper tosses the match onto the pyre. They all stand back and silently watch the flames come to life and surround Ellis. Piper and Maisie cling to one another; Maisie doing her best to hold back her tears while Piper sobs quietly. But Harper stands quietly, her arms crossed and her expression stoic.

A gentle hand lands on Harper’s shoulder, and she turns to meet Sam’s sympathetic gaze. He gives her a sad smile that says he is here for her if she needs him. Harper places her hand over Sam’s, squeezing gently to convey a silent thank you. Her gaze returns to the flames, but her hand remains over his.


	5. The One (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Favorite Girl by The Icarus Account
> 
> This is just a little snippet to give you an idea of the girls’ relationship with Ellis. We felt bad for killing him off before he even got a word in, so we wanted to give him a bit of context. Hope you like him! - M&H

* * *

 

_ One month before Chapter 1 _

 

Harper is sitting shotgun in Maisie’s strawberry-red Mustang Convertible, her arm hanging out of the open window as the gravel road passes under them. She is only half listening to Maisie puzzle over the reason Ellis texted them to meet him at an address previously unknown to them. 

“Their anniversary is coming up next month, maybe he wants help with picking out a gift,” Maisie offers. Harper is no help, simply giving a noncommittal shrug; relationships weren’t exactly her forte. Harper only gets a minute of wind-rushing reprieve before Maisie is at it again. 

“Though, he hasn’t really seemed to need help with that kind of thing before. Remember that perfect, vintage bike he got her for their first anniversary?” Harper nods along with Maisie this time, they had both been able to appreciate that gesture. Bike rides were Piper and Ellis’  _ ‘thing’,  _ even when she could hardly keep up, riding her old, garage-sale bicycle. 

“You would think the guy would get sick of riding bikes when he does it for a living,” Harper comments, thinking of Ellis’ full-time job as a bicycle messenger. 

Maisie smiles. “He’s doing what he loves. And it is how he met Piper,” she responds while parking the Mustang beside the little shop that was apparently their destination. Maisie’s eyes widen and Harper’s eyebrows shoot up when they see the sign placed in one of the shop’s windows.

Slowly opening the door, Maisie walks in, Harper silently following a few feet behind. A shorter-than-average man, with black hair combed to the side, turns from his conversation with the man behind one of many glass display cases to greet them. “Hey, guys, surprise.” He gives them a wide, if not timid, smile.

“Ellis…” Maisie starts, looking around at all the rings of different shapes and sizes that the display cases held. 

“No, we’re not marrying you,” Harper cuts in before Maisie can finish her thought. Ellis’ grin slides into a smirk as he retorts.

“Come on, we could start our own sister wives franchise.” 

“Do you want to start World War III?” Harper deadpans. Ellis gives a mock thoughtful look before Maisie’s light laughter bursts the silence and they all give in. Once their laughter dies down, Ellis takes a deep breath and the girls’ expressions turn more somber.

“Well, as you must realize, I asked you to come for a reason. You are the closest to family Piper has, seeing as she hasn’t spoken to her family in New Orleans since before we even met. As it’s coming around to the third year, I’ve been lucky enough to be with the woman I love. I know I don’t want to ever be without her. You’ve known Piper even longer than I have, and are definitely aware of how extraordinary she is. So, I wanted to humbly ask you both, if you think I’m worthy to marry her?” Ellis looks between Harper and Maisie as his question charges the air. 

Finally, Maisie steps forward and grabs Ellis into a crushing hug, sniffling out something that resembled “that’s beautiful” and “there’s no one else more worthy.” After her sufficient hug time, Maisie steps back to let Harper say her piece. 

“You could’ve saved the speech for Piper. But yeah, marry the hell out of her,” Harper concedes with a wry smile. Ellis laughs and pulls her in for a quick hug, only slightly awkward due to Harper’s begrudging nature when it comes to PDA. 

“Thanks, guys, it means the world. Now, I was hoping you’d help me pick out the ring? This is one gift I can’t afford to get wrong.” The girls heartily agree, and the three of them work together to make quick work of the options, before they land on the one perfect ring to go along with that one perfect question.


	6. Stress Relief, Open Doors, & Grumpy Old Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Happy Endings Are Stories That Haven't Ended Yet by Mayday Parade
> 
> poor harper lol but at least she got to make a Panic! At the Disco reference… -mara
> 
> Guys, I’m literally going to get a tattoo to commemorate ‘stress relief’. Maisie is such a tease in the best way. We totally want your conspiracy theories on who Nina could be working with! -Hope

* * *

 

“No, stop!” Maisie is suddenly sitting up in her bed after being awoken yet again from her tumultuous sleep. She quickly clamps a hand over her mouth to prevent any other violent sounds from escaping and waking up Piper. She can’t even clearly remember what she had been yelling about, but it wasn’t worth disturbing Piper after it had taken an hour and a half to cry herself to sleep in Maisie’s arms. She didn’t think any amount of attempts would allow her any semblance of a peaceful, or even uninterrupted, sleep tonight. 

Slowly sliding off of her bed, Maisie gives Gandalf a quick pat to reassure him, before she slips on a pair of cutoff shorts and her lucky converse, pulls on her favorite  _ Republic of California  _ hoodie, then turns to her shelves of CDs and cassette tapes. Picking out her mixtape labeled ‘ _ stress relief’ _ , she makes her way out of the room, and grabs her keys off of the small stand stationed just beside the doorway before closing the door behind her. Once she has tiptoed down the stairs, Maisie heads through the kitchen and unlocks the back door to slip out. She is halfway across the back porch before a rumbling voice stops her in her tracks; her free hand instantly slips to her constant companion, which takes the shape of a stout, silver knife, sheathed in a black thigh holster on her right leg. 

“If I didn’t know any better, it’d look like you were running off,” Dean says. Steadily, relaxing her grip on the knife’s handle, Maisie turns towards where Dean is standing at the far edge of the porch. She silently appraises him, one arm leaned heavily on the porch rail, the other handling a tumbler of amber liquid. She takes a step closer. 

“Care to run with me?” Maisie intoned softly. Dean’s alert, yet tired eyes lock with hers. He raises the tumbler to his lips and finishes off the contents. Dean then pushes off of the rail propelling himself toward her, setting the empty tumbler on a small, log table as he passes. 

“Lead the way, sweetheart.” Maisie raises her eyebrows slightly, in a unimpressed way but doesn’t reply, simply continuing on her intended way. With Dean trailing behind, Maisie turns right off of the porch, walking straight towards a clump of trees. On the other side of the trees, a wide, two-door garage comes dimly into view, one of the doors already starting to lift. By the time they enter the garage, the door has completed its ascent to reveal a gleaming, 1966, strawberry-red Mustang convertible.

Dean lets out a long sigh of awe as he walks around to fully examine the beauty. It has one wide stripe, matching the white of the convertible top, and two thin companion stripes, stretching along the bottom of the body between the tires. Dean realizes Maisie is already situated inside the Mustang and quickly follows suit.

“This is  _ my _ sweetheart,” Maisie informs him, with a gentle pat on the dashboard. 

“She’s a nice one,” Dean replies. Maisie makes quick work of the convertible top latches, pops in the cassette tape, and next thing Dean knows, they're breezing down an open dirt road. Much to Dean’s ever growing admiration of Maisie, he recognizes the words singing through the cool night air, belong to The Beatles, ‘ _ Hey Jude’.  _ Other than the notes of the music and sound of rushing wind, Dean and Maisie stay silent, each engrossed in their own ramble of thoughts.

Dean rests his arm on the window and closes his eyes, settling in for the yet-to-be-determined length of the ride, as Maisie whips around corners and past the few scattered houses along the way. Finally, when he feels the car slowing to a stop, Dean opens his eyes to see a grassy plain stretching unperturbed for miles before them. Maisie turns off the engine and unbuckles, but instead of getting out of the car, she scoots closer to Dean.

“So… What’re we doing?” Dean inquires, trying to keep his voice smooth. Maisie looks at him steadily and rests a hand just above his knee.

“Stress relief,” she purrs, leaning closer still. Dean swallows thickly.

“Well, not that I wouldn't love to; I mean, you're- wow. But don't yo-” he stops short and flicks his eyes downward as her other hand snakes between his legs and reaches under the seat. In the next second, her hand reappears, holding a pack of cigarettes. Dean’s lips form a small ‘o’ as Maisie slides back toward the door and hops out of the car, laughing all the way. 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean runs a hand over his face, working to retain his composure. Getting out of the car himself, he strides after Maisie, who is wading through the almost knee-high grass. 

“Harper doesn't like me smoking. Always going on about all the life-threatening risks we already take by hunting. So I just hide them,” Maisie throws over her shoulder. Dean nods in understanding, allowing himself a small chuckle. The next couple minutes pass in silence. The sound of rushing water reaches their ears, and Dean realizes they are nearing a wide fissure. 

Once they reach it, Maisie steps onto a narrow, wooden bridge, directly level with the ground all the way across the fissure. It was only about a hundred feet across and reasonably shallow. Maisie stops in the middle of the bridge and sits at the edge, letting her feet dangle over. 

She pulls two cigarettes from the pack, along with a lighter. Lighting one of the cigarettes, Maisie offers it to Dean; he takes it with a brief shrug, then a mumbled ‘thanks’, as Maisie lights her own.

Dean lowers himself to sit with his back leaning against the the bridge railing “You, um, okay and everything?” He inquires just above a whisper. 

Releasing a puff of smoke, the tang of mint tinges his throat; he watches the smoke trail upwards and dissipate, leaving a clear view of the luminous moon surrounded by the hundreds of millions of stars as far as the eye could see. Suddenly, Maisie sidles slightly closer to Dean. This time she simply places an earbud in his ear, the other already snug in one of hers. 

 

   ‘ _ I won't keep watching you _

_    Dance around in your smoke _

_    And flicker out _

_   You're not the light I used to know’  _

 

_ “ _ Music speaks for the emotions we can’t express,” Maisie utters, as the melancholia tune carries on. Dean feels that just as Maisie couldn't bring herself to say what she was feeling in her own words, no words he could conjure would do the situation justice. 

Hesitantly, Dean extends his hand, gradually placing it on top of hers, perched on her leg. He gives her hand a firm squeeze, before starting to retreat, but she quickly grabs it, squeezing softly in return. Dean relaxes his arm, and their hands are lowered in the space between them, settling on the wood of the weathered bridge below.

* * *

A sleepy Harper trudges down the stairs after a night of miserable dreams, the smell of coffee propelling her to the kitchen with a wide-eyed Neptune hurrying after her. She wonders why Maisie is up at five a.m. making coffee; Harper is usually the restless sleeper. However, she continues on, too tired to think up an answer. She descends the stairs without thinking, wearing only an oversized, black t-shirt which falls only a few inches below her butt. 

As she reaches the bottom of the steps and turns toward the kitchen, she rubs at her sleepy eyes and remarks, “I love you for making coffee, but why did you make it so fucking early?” 

Harper looks around the kitchen, thinking she would find Maisie, but instead finds Neptune scurrying past her towards Sam, standing next to her beloved coffee maker. Her eyes go wide at the realization of what she said. Sam opens his mouth to speak, looking amused, but Harper cuts him off, sputtering out an apology to try to hide the fact that she had accidentally said she loved him.

“Uh, sorry… I thought… Maisie usually makes… the coffee,” Harper stammers as she tries to salvage the situation from being too awkward. She glances over the counters to the living room, and sees Cas watching TV with the volume low and subtitles on before looking back at Sam.

He smiles, dismissing the apology smoothly. “It’s fine, Harper. I get it, you don’t love me, even though I made coffee,” he teases as his eyes rove over her form for a moment. He notes how the black t-shirt hangs loose and short, leaving her legs exposed. A tattoo she hadn’t sported in college, is shown off on her left thigh, in bold, black lettering reading, “Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die.”

He notices the multiple tattoos splayed across her arms, some he had seen during their college years. A band tattoo of a starry, forest skyline wraps around her left bicep, and a black thorn branch is tattooed farther down, around her left wrist. On her right forearm is a large colorful tattoo, an astronaut holding the planets on balloon strings. Sam looks back to her face, seeing how pieces of her dark hair had slipped out of the messy bun on her head, framing her face and making her blue eyes shine out brightly. To him, she looks adorable.

Harper is about to let out another lame apology when she notices his gaze flicker away from hers. She looks down at her clothes, realizing she’s barely wearing any. Her cheeks flush, suddenly feeling embarrassed by her lack of pants and thinking she probably looks like a complete mess to him. She had completely forgotten the boys had stayed when she woke up, and now, in her mind, she’s basically half-naked, standing with Sam in the kitchen.

“Um… I’m gonna…” she starts as she slowly starts backing up and jabbing her thumb toward the stairs behind her. “Yeah… Clothes… Um… I gotta…” Harper’s embarrassment wouldn’t let her finish any sentence she attempted. She swiftly turns around and flees from the hopeless situation, her heart pounding in her chest as she runs back upstairs, feeling incredibly awkward. She wishes she could go back in time to make herself throw on pants before walking downstairs. Sam watches in amusement as an embarrassed Harper scrambles to get upstairs. Incidentally, the back door is slowly creaking open, and Dean and Maisie catch a glimpse of Harper fleeing as they creep in.

“I think you’re doing it wrong, Sammy, they’re supposed to be running towards you,” Dean teases. Sam ignores his brother’s jab, focusing on the coffee. Maisie is about to speak when Cas enters the kitchen and beats her to the punch.

“I felt distress, is everyone alright?” 

Maisie raises her eyebrows. In the fray of all that happened the night before, she had failed to receive the “Cas is an angel” memo. “What, do you have Spidey senses?” 

“I have ‘angel radio’, as Sam and Dean have named it, if that’s what you’re referring to,” Cas replies with a quizzical look, confusing Maisie even further. Dean finally jumps in to clarify. 

“Cas is an angel. Yes, the halo and all that good stuff. Well, mostly.” 

Maisie simply nods her head as if she understood, though she doesn’t feel like her brain is awake enough to properly process this phenomenon, other than an ironic ‘ _ holy shit’ _ . Before the conversation can continue, Sam tries to slip from the room unnoticed, carrying an extra cup of coffee with the intent of bringing it to Harper. Not knowing what to make of the situation of a fleeing Harper, Maisie easily beats Sam to the stairs, freeing one of the cups of coffee from his grasp.

“I think I’ll take this to her. Besides, she will kill you if you try to get up these stairs on that foot, so you can sit your ass down.” Though a tight smile is placed on Maisie’s lips, her dark, sea-green eyes brook no argument. Sam concedes with a duck of his head and turns to hobble to the living room, Neptune opting to follow and keep him company. 

As Maisie turns to head up the stairs, Dean is able to catch a glimpse of two tattoos on Maisie’s legs, now that they weren’t outside in the dark light before dawn. On the side of her right thigh, barely below her knife holster, is a skull made up of different kinds of flowers, and looking like it was flecked with the hues of galaxies. The other tattoo was a moderate, dark grey dreamcatcher, located low on the back of her left calf; the feathers depicted, hang down to her ankle and disperse into a flock of small birds at the tips. 

Focused on carefully balancing the hot coffee, Maisie is unaware of Dean’s captivated gaze as she walks up the stairs to Harper’s closed bedroom door, leaving the boys to their own devices downstairs. A quick knock from Maisie taps against the door, earning a grumble from Harper, but Maisie couldn’t make out her words. 

She slowly swings the door open, revealing Harper facedown on her bed. “Harp, I have coffee,” Maisie offers sympathetically. 

Harper sits up immediately and watches as Maisie crosses the room to deliver the coffee. She accepts the warm cup and takes a sip as she looks around her room to avoid meeting Maisie’s questioning gaze.

Harper’s bed is pushed into the corner of the room below the large window taking up half of the wall and covered by dangling fairy lights. The dark sheets on her bed are messy with several pillows and blankets, haphazardly laying across the space. Her favorite books and an empty coffee mug are set on the nightstand nearby. A vanity sits on the opposite side of the room, the mirror covered in a handful of photos and various sticky notes, containing quotes and reminders. Her closed laptop is placed near the expanse of lotion, perfume, and other toiletries spread across the vanity surface. Her telescope stands close by in the corner, looming underneath the constellation maps and space-themed posters along the wall. Her closet door is open from when she changed into her usual black clothing after her awkward confrontation with Sam. 

“The love of your life is downstairs, and you’re hiding. What is wrong with this picture?” Maisie urges Harper empathetically. 

“I told him I loved him, and I wasn’t even wearing pants, for fuck’s sake. Everything is wrong,” Harper babbles out loudly, before leaning over to carefully set her mug of coffee on her nightstand, then dramatically throwing herself onto her back with a groan, her eyes screwed shut. A bleary eyed Piper appears in the doorway, yawning quietly. 

“Why are you yelling?” Piper asks with a disgruntled air. Harper pops up, grabbing onto the diversion from her awkwardness. 

“Why is everyone awake at five a.m.!?” Harper shoots back, looking from Piper to Maisie, who is exaggeratedly rolling her eyes. 

“You’re the one who woke me up! I think I get to ask the questions, like, what is all this about not wearing pants?” Piper returns indignantly, her voice going an octave higher. Harper’s expression drops at the realization she was not getting out of this awkward revelation. 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Dean and Cas’ conversation had come to an abrupt halt as they hear the raised voices coming from upstairs. Dean slowly looks over the counter to Sam on the couch, but Sam is busy actively ignoring him, simply raising the remote to turn up the volume on the TV .

“Uh, Sammy. There are so many questions. What  _ were  _ you doing this morning with a scantily clad Harper?” Dean tries to reach Sam over the noise of the TV. 

Without even turning his head, Sam replies, “I don’t know, Dean. What were  _ you _ doing sneaking in with Maisie at five in the morning?” 

“Touché.” Dean shrugs, turning back to make his coffee. 

“I was not aware it was a requirement to wear pants while confessing one’s affection to another,” Cas comments. Dean looks at Cas in turn for a moment, before his deep laughter suddenly rumbles out.

Hearing Dean’s laughter resonating up the stairs, Harper immediately clamps her mouth shut, her eyes going wide at the sight of her open bedroom door. 

“Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the  _ goddamn  _ door!?” Harper seethes, jumping up from her bed before practically shoving Maisie and Piper out of her room, and slamming the door in her embarrassed rage. 

“Don’t quote Panic! At The Disco at me!” Maisie yells through the solid wood. Upon getting no response, Maisie plods back to her room and drops onto her bed, disrupting Gandalf’s sprawled form. Pulling the comforter up around her and scooting Gandalf closer, Maisie makes sure to check Piper is as tired as she is, before throwing an arm over Gandalf and attempting to catch a couple more hours of sleep.

* * *

After everyone was, more or less, adequately rested, the time came to face the day. A quick discussion led to the decision that Dean should accompany Maisie to the police station, where they would look into the missing vampire who had eluded its demise the night before. 

“You think we’ll get anywhere with only a partial plate?” Dean asks Maisie once they arrive at Maisie and Harper’s usual police station. 

“Phillip can do anything,” Maisie replies without hesitation as they reach the entrance and simultaneously open both doors. Before Dean can respond, Danny is greeting Maisie, his usual welcoming smile faltering slightly when he sights Dean instead of Harper. 

“Everything alright? Harper never texted me back. I didn’t know what to think… If something went wrong on the case?” Danny inquires once Maisie approaches his desk.

“I’m sorry, Danny. Harper’s fine. She just got, um… Distracted.” Maisie eyes flit discreetly to Dean before she gives Danny a sympathetic smile. “I’ll make sure she gets back to you,” Maisie adds with a pat on his shoulder before continuing on to Phillips office. A string of raps on the door later, Maisie opens the door to reveal Philip with his eyes closed, his fingers steepled under his chin.

“I’ve never seen you pray before, Philip. It’s not a bad look.” Dean gives Maisie a questioning look before Philip replies.

“I was steeling myself to deal with you for the third consecutive day in a row.” Philip sighs as he opens his eyes, his frown lines deepening as his gaze lands on Dean for a lingering moment. “This is the wannabe from two days ago.” Philip now looks to Maisie.

“But you didn’t tell me he was this pretty,” Maisie grins, hooking a thumb in Dean’s direction. Dean shifts only somewhat uncomfortably, huffing a small laugh, as Maisie catches his eye and winks at him. There is no such luck with Philip, who stares at the wall, looking like he was contemplating banning her from the station. Finally, Philip deigns them with a response.

“If you came here to simply show off your new boy toy, you can come back the way you came, double time, and let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” Maisie puts a hand to her heart, a mock pout on her lips. Dean’s eyes go wide, wondering how Maisie put up with this guy talking to her that way. 

“Philip, it hurts that you never take an interest in my boy toys. And I really like this one! Can’t you tell?” Maisie’s pout turns into a playful smile as she bats her eyelashes at a now thoroughly confused Dean. Philip throws up his hands exasperatedly, rolling his eyes to the ceiling, with a mumbled, “I can never win with you.”

“I’m sorry, Philip,” Maisie laughs, showing she’s not even slightly sorry. “But we need one more thing for this case. One of the vamps got away, and we can’t let it just get off scot free, now can we?” Maisie turns more somber, thinking of Ellis’s lifeless body and Piper’s anguished sobs late into the night. Stepping up to Philip’s desk, Maisie grabs a pen and sticky note, to scribble out the part of the license plate her and Harper had been able to catch. She hands it to Philip who begrudgingly takes it with a shake of his head. 

“Fine. This could take a bit,” Philip says, getting up and brushing past them. As soon as Philip is out of earshot, Dean turns to Maisie.

“What’s his deal? He’s even grumpier than my uncle Bobby.” Maisie shakes her head.

“Oh, that’s nothing. Just a show for people who don’t know better. But underneath, he’s just as big a teddy bear as Bobby Singer,” Maisie assures, giving Dean a knowing look. Dean’s mouth rounds in a small ‘o’, not having expected her to know Bobby. Though, why shouldn’t she? She knew the Harvelle’s. And you would be hard pressed to meet a hunter who  _ didn’t  _ know Bobby.

“How have we never met before?” Dean blurts. 

“Who knows the plans of destiny.” Maisie shrugs with a twinkle in her eye. 

The next half hour is spent with Maisie and Dean going back and forth comparing stories of different hunters they’ve met; the good, the bad, and the ugly. They concluded that there were many they had in common, a few including: Gordon, Garth, and Tracy Bell. Finally, Philip returns and swiftly reclaims his seat. Dean makes a mental note to continue their conversation later. 

“Alright, your  _ suspect _ is Nina VonVamp,” Philip states with a note of disdain. Dean and Maisie exchange incredulous looks. A vampire literally name  _ VonVamp?  _ Even in their crazy line of work, this seemed  _ out there _ . Dean is left speechless, while Maisie speaks up, summing up how everyone in the room was feeling.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

* * *

While Maisie and Dean were busy wrapping their minds around incredulity of a vampire named VonVamp and attempting to relay the information to an equally incredulous Sam, Harper, Cas, and Piper; said vampire had finally run far enough. Nina VonVamp screeches her now, soot coated car to a halt inches from the door of a ramshackle barn. She couldn't help but turn up her nose in disgust at the sight. This dump was a far cry from her comfortable style, nevertheless, she couldn’t deny her sire.

The last vestiges of sunlight had already dipped out of sight behind the California hills as Nina shuts her eyes, taking a moment to steel herself against the catastrophic events of the previous night.  _ Guy; _ Her brother, his new boyfriend, and all of her recruits: dead. She snaps open her eyes before the slight wetness in her eyes can develop any further. She had a mission to complete, no point prolonging the inevitable. Stepping out of the car, she doesn’t bother to close the door; there was no one around for miles. Besides, this would be a short visit, she hoped.

Nina pushes the door into the barn open, quickly brushing her hands off on her jeans. Eyes roving around the structure, Nina continues deeper in, gravitating towards the single light hanging from a post at the back. Finally a cracked voice, sounding like it hadn’t been used in days, stops her movement. 

“You’re alone. No Guy? How odd.” A rugged man with brunette hair, steps into the ring of light, his faded green eyes bore into hers with mildly contained curiosity. 

“Dead,” Nina uttered shortly. The man simply nodded, eyebrows raised lazily, waiting for her to continue with her report. “You were right, she’s there. She’s a hunter,” she spits the last word out, wanting nothing to do with it.

Closing his eyes, a grim look of satisfaction carves into the man’s features as he whispers to the shadows, “I’m coming.”


	7. A Date With Danny And Denial (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop by Landon Pigg
> 
> Danny is too good for this world, too pure… hope you enjoy a little look into Danny’s life and what’s going on in Harper’s head! Also my title alliteration is something i’m very proud of… lol -mara

* * *

 

Harper parks her truck near the little cafe and notices Danny waiting outside with his hands in his jean pockets. He smiles at her as she walks toward him, and an apologetic look crosses Harper's expression.

“Again, I'm so sorry for forgetting to text you back,” she says. “Everything has been so crazy recently.”

Danny waves it off. “It's fine; we're here now, all right?” He smiles in a way that tries to make Harper feel less guilty, but it doesn't work. If anything, it makes Harper feel worse. “You look cute tonight.”

Harper glances down at her outfit: dark-wash, ripped jeans, gray v-neck, black combat boots, and her favorite black leather jacket. Maybe she should've dressed up more… Then again, Danny usually only sees her when she's dressed up to play FBI in the precinct. “Thanks, you don't look so bad yourself,” Harper returns.

A soft smile plays on Danny’s lips as he says, “And I'm glad we are finally here.”

“Me too,” she says happily as they turn toward the door of the cafe. A soft bell jingles as the door is held open by Danny, letting Harper enter first. She mutters a soft “thank you” as she passes him.

After ordering and obtaining their coffee, Harper and Danny sit down at a table near the big windows by the door. Soft music plays over the cafe as a few scattered people sit at various tables around the room. Some are working on laptops while others make conversation.  _ A good place to people watch _ , Harper thinks as she takes a long sip of her coffee.  _ Damn, this is good coffee _ . 

“So is there any reason you didn't want me to pick you up for this date?” Danny inquiries before taking a sip of his own cup.

One reason stands out in her mind,taking the form of a single word. Sam. She couldn't say that to Danny. But why did that even matter? She liked Sam in college over a decade ago; that shouldn't matter now. Yet for some reason, it did, and Harper refuses to acknowledge why. Instead choosing to ignore the real reason and choosing to hate the fact that her little, irrelevant crush keeps her from speaking the truth now.

“Well, Maisie and I have some guests at the house right now, and I didn't want you to feel pressured by all the people hanging around,” Harper replies and glances over at the couple that enters the cafe, trying not to give away her partial lie.

“Oh okay, very considerate of you. How long are your guests staying?” Danny questions before glancing around the room and admiring the warm decor of the cafe.

She shrugs. “Not sure. They got preoccupied with some business in town and then Sam broke his foot. So they've been here longer than they anticipated.” Harper takes a long sip, trying to bury her guilt over both forgetting to text him and now partially lying.

“Sam?” His tone is hard to decipher. Harper couldn't tell if he is curious or if there is something more to it.

“Yeah, Sam is one of my friends from college. And his brother, Dean, is also staying with us.”

He nods, his expression unreadable. “What college did you go to?” he asks, effectively ending all conversation about the Winchesters. Harper is grateful for this; she didn't want to talk about them.

“Stanford. What about you?”

“Didn't go. After high school, I went into the police academy.” He smiles at this, as if he's reliving a fond memory, and Harper can't help smiling a little bit too. “What about family? Any family in town besides Maisie?”

She shakes her head. “No, our foster moms stayed in California after Maisie and I moved here. We visit every couple of months, though. What about you?”

“My parents live in Lovelock, which is a couple hours from here, and I visit as frequently as I can, helping them around the house.” A grin grows across Danny’s face when he mentions his parents.

“Are you close?” Harper questions curiously.

Danny nods, smiling. “Yeah, we are. Especially my dad and me.”

Harper and Danny go on talking about family and what life was like growing up. They laugh and enjoy each other's company. The hours go along and it's dark by the time they stroll out of the cafe. 

“This was fun,” Danny says with big grin. 

Harper smiles back. “It was. We should do this again.”

“And this time you'll text me back. Or maybe I'll call instead; that way you have to pick up,” he teases.

“Never gonna live this down, am I?” Harper says, shaking her head.

He smirks and replies, “Not any time soon at least.”

“I'll see you around, okay?”

“Yep. Good night, Harper,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder. His eyes are gentle as they meet her gaze, eliciting a smile from Harper.

“Good night, Danny.” 

He leans in and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek before they go their separate ways. Harper walks straight toward her truck without a second thought, briefly thinking about the way his lips felt against her cheek. To her, it didn’t feel quite right, but she couldn’t figure out why. Something nagging in the back of Harper’s mind wouldn't let her enjoy the moment. Instead of deciphering her feelings, she decides to focus on getting home and talking to Maisie. Talking to Sam, too.

Danny, on the other hand, glances back at her, taking note of the way she walks and watching her until she disappears into the cab of her truck. A soft smile plays on his lips at the mere thought of seeing her again, of going on another date with her. And as he walks back to his own car, Danny wonders if she's slowly falling for him the way that he is slowly falling for her.


	8. Drunk And Jealous (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Golden Days by Panic! At the Disco
> 
> Don’t worry, Dean does love Cas, he’s just grumpy that Maisie’s best nickname for him is a stripper name and she doesn’t even take it seriously lol -Hope
> 
> Sam and Harper are about to take you on quite the roller coaster ride… also drunk harper = best harper lol -mara

* * *

 

As the sun dips below the horizon, the Winchesters and the Ravens settle around the fire pit behind the safe house, liquor in hand, ready to toast to the last night of the boys’ stay. They form a semicircle around the flames, Harper and Maisie sitting in between the two boys. Due to Harper’s demand, Sam’s injured foot rests on the beer-filled cooler. Although, she would have preferred he used a chair instead of the cooler, since he has to lift his leg every time he needs a new drink.

Neptune seems to have adopted Sam and won’t leave his side, so Gandalf took it upon himself to fill the void for Harper, lounging in the space between her and Maisie. “Cas has really been such an angel, offering to hang out with Piper tonight and all,” Maisie comments as she scratches behind Gandalf’s ear. 

“Ha. Good one, sweetheart,” Dean scoffs in a sarcastic manner, though trying to keep his tone quiet. Harper looks Dean in the eye, raising an eyebrow as she silently lets him know his comment didn’t go unnoticed.

“Why don’t you show us how much of an angel you are, Mean Dean Dazzle?” Harper takes another gulp of her drink, already feeling the effects of her second bourbon. Sam sharply shifts in his seat, his foot sliding off the cooler. He glares between Dean and Harper. 

Dean, however, takes this in stride. “But how would your date feel about that? It went that bad?”

“Date? What  _ date _ ? That’s where you were last night?” Sam half-accuses, while also sounding confused. Harper slowly turns her own glare, from Dean to Maisie, who hides behind her vodka-lemonade, before turning to answer Sam.

“Yes, Sam. I have had a life since you left. Though, I know it sucks when people don’t tell you things.” Harper gives Sam a pointed look. With a sigh, Sam throws his hands in the air, jostling the contents of his beer in the process.

“That was twelve years ago. What do I have to do to prove I’m sorry!?” Sam asks exasperatedly. 

“Well, it took you twelve years to apologize, so you have some catching up to do. But for starters, you can get your damn leg back up on that cooler.” Harper coolly gestures to Sam’s injured leg, still resting where it landed beside the cooler.

“What if I say no?” Sam counters, holding Harper’s gaze for a long moment.

Instead of responding, she shifts her chair closer to him before grabbing his leg, gently lifting it onto her lap, and holding it there. “I’d say ‘fuck you,’” Harper says defiantly. 

Sam simply looks shocked while laughter rolls out of Dean and Maisie. “Better watch out, Sammy. Don’t wanna get in trouble with H.R.,” Dean manages between peals of intoxicated laughter. 

“So, what? I’m Human Resources now?” Harper throws a smile at Dean, who winks in response. Sam frowns, until suddenly Maisie breaks through the tense silence. 

“Oh my God! I can’t believe I never thought of that!” Her sudden declaration and the pure look of shock on her face causes everyone, even Sam, to dissolve into laughter again. 

With the combination of alcohol and laughter, Harper relaxes again and subconsciously begins drawing imaginary circles on Sam’s leg in her lap. Sam glances over to her hand briefly, a soft smile instantly gracing his expression. Sam rests his hand on his thigh, absent-mindedly sliding it closer to Harper’s hand, stealing her attention.

“Trying to hold my hand, Sam?” Harper slurs slightly, with an unfamiliar grin across her face.

“Would you let me?” He asks, but before she gets a chance to respond, Sam slips his hand to hers, running his fingers softly over her knuckles before taking a hold of it. 

“Should we hold hands, too, so it’s not so awkward?” Dean asks Maisie as Harper continues to silently stare at her hand in Sam’s. 

“I think you owe me another piece of pie first.” Maisie giggles and gives Dean a pat on the arm, before standing up a little unsteadily. “I’m gonna go check on Piper and our angel,” Maisie informs the group, then leaves Dean to third-wheel while he grumpily finishes his drink in one swift gulp. After a few minutes in silence, Harper decides to speak up.

“You better keep in touch this time.”  She means for her tone to be teasing, but it comes out quiet and dispirited. 

“I promise,” Sam says gently as his thumb brushes over her knuckles. At this, Dean makes an indiscreet gagging noise and decides to get up to make a run for it, when Maisie comes stumbling down the porch steps. Seeing Dean’s effort to move away from Sam and Harper, Maisie points a finger at him.

“Sit down, Winchester. You haven’t outdrunked me yet.” Dean puts his hands up in surrender and drops back into his chair. 

“How’s Red doing?” Harper asks, finally tearing her gaze from her and Sam’s intertwined fingers. Maisie meets Harper’s eyes with a wide grin. 

“I’ve never seen her sit so close to someone she just met! She’s sitting on the couch with him!” Harper’s eyes widen and her lips part with a whispered “wow.” Piper is extremely shy in social situations, always keeping her distance from new acquaintances. It had taken Harper and Maisie six months before they cracked her shell. When neither of the sisters elaborate, Sam and Dean exchange confused glances at their amazement. 

“Cas is a miracle worker,” Harper muses. 

“You haven’t seen him around slushee machines,” Dean retorts, only getting an eye roll or a head-shake from the others.

“Geez, what’s in y’all’s drinks? Jealousy?” Maisie asks, looking around the semicircle. Dean just scoffs, avoiding her gaze, but Sam smirks and holds up Harper’s hand in his. 

“I’m good now.” Harper blushes furiously at Sam’s words, tugging their hands back down and out of sight. 

“Ugh, I hope I don’t remember any of this in the morning,” Dean groans at the sight of all the slap-happy looks surrounding him.


	9. California Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Unsteady by X Ambassadors
> 
> They be trippin’, road trippin’, with no chill -M&H

* * *

 

After an hour and a half on the road, Harper’s phone starts ringing for the second time in the last five minutes. Tired of hearing it go off, Maisie stops texting Dean long enough to answer the phone for Harper.  “Don’t,” Harper hisses as she glances away from the road briefly to glare at her sister.

“Oh, hey, Sam.” Maisie talks into the phone and shoots Harper a smirk. “Harper’s driving right now. She says she’ll call you back later.” 

“Now, hang up,” Harper demands, hoping she will listen.

“Oh, she also says she loves you,” Maisie adds with a mischievous smile.

“Maisie! Hang up the fucking phone!” Harper’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as she grits her teeth.

Sam’s muffled laughter is heard through the phone, but does nothing to lessen the anger coursing through Harper. Maisie relents to her sister’s wishes, finally hanging up and placing Harper’s phone back in the cup holder. “Relax, he knows I was just teasing.” 

“That’s not the point,” Harper counters. “Red, back me up here.” She glances in the rearview mirror to make eye contact with Piper in the backseat with Neptune and Gandalf.

“I agree with you, Harp,” she starts and Harper gives Maisie a pointed look. “But…”

Harper’s smug expression drops. “But what?” she spits out.

“But you need to calm down. Sam knows she was teasing. No harm, no foul.” Piper leans forward, her head in between the sisters’ seats. Harper’s phone rings once again. “You have one voicemail and two texts from Sam,” Piper informs her with a smile, and Harper sighs heavily in response. 

Maisie’s phone buzzes and Piper glances between the sisters. “When did you two get so popular?” she pouts, feeling left out. “You’re texting Dean, huh?” Piper nudges Maisie’s shoulder and tries to peek at the messages. Maisie holds out her phone to Piper.

“Yes, because I don’t hide my feelings.” Maisie gives a fake cough, looking at Harper who shakes her head. 

“But maybe you should show a little restraint. These are sickening,” Piper groans, shoving Maisie’s phone back at her. 

“See, leave me alone,” Harper shoots. But Piper shakes her finger at her.

“No,  _ you _ need to ease up on the reigns there, Harp.” Harper ignores this, turning the music up on a Panic! At The Disco song, and going back to gritting her teeth. 

Seven hours, five more voicemails from Sam, and two whole Panic! At The Disco albums later, the girls are hauling their bags up the stone steps to the house in which Harper and Maisie were raised. Home, sweet, San Francisco. Once inside, Harper makes it no further than the couch before collapsing. Maisie makes a beeline for her room, or more specifically her bathroom, because Harper “No, we’ll be there in thirty minutes, you can hold it” Raven had her about to burst. Meanwhile, Piper slips out of the back door, heading down to the beach with Gandalf and Neptune in tow. The ocean is where Piper feels most at peace; she never misses the chance to see it. 

* * *

Rested from the long drive the day before, the girls finally make their way out to the mental health facility to visit their surviving foster mother, Quincy Carter. They check-in at the front desk before a nurse directs them to the visitation room where Quincy is waiting. 

“There are my girls. Took you shitheads long enough,” Quincy says as they approach.

“Good to see you, too, Momma Q,” Maisie replies with a charming smile.

“We got here as fast as we could.” Harper takes a seat next to Momma Q, who raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“As  _ fast  _ as you could? I could have died by the time you got here,” Momma Q scoffs and glances over to Piper. “At least you brought little Red with you this time. How’re ya holding up?” she adds with a soft smile. 

Piper’s shoulders slump as her expression falters for a moment. “I’m okay.”

Harper and Maisie exchange a look of concern while Momma Q nods knowingly. “Take a seat, girls, and I’ll tell you about the case I have for you.” Maisie and Piper comply, taking a seat across from Harper and Momma Q.  

“That wasn’t just your excuse to get us down here?” Maisie teases, knowing full well the look she’ll get. Momma Q does not disappoint; raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips, she stares Maisie down a full minute before replying.

“I’ve done all the research I can from here, which isn’t much. But looks like we’ve got ourselves an Alcatraz ghost.” Harper runs a hand down her face, letting out a long sigh.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em, Momma,” Harper grumbles, earning her own stare down from Quincy. 

“Oh yeah, you know how I love fraternizing with ghosts,” Momma Q retorts dryly. Turning to Piper, Quincy asks, “Is it your turn to question my sanity?” 

“I would never, Momma Q,” Piper assures, slightly on the dramatic side with a hand to her chest. Quincy gives her a wink before delving back into the case. 

“Now, there’s an old rumor with the locals I managed to catch wind of. Apparently, this place was built on the remains of a burned down cottage. They say it was caused by one of the escaped prisoners from Alcatraz that were presumed dead; though they never identified the second body. The first, of course, was the owner of the cottage. So, I’ve said my piece, y’all get to work.” Momma Q claps her hands together, but at the same moment, Harper’s phone happens to go off once again. Harper grabs it out of her pocket to look at the screen, before quickly setting it face-down on the small table in between her and Quincy. 

“Who else are ya ignoring, besides me?” Momma Q quips. When Harper won’t meet her eyes and the ringing continues, Quincy snatches Harper’s phone from the table and answers. “Who is this, and why is Harper ignoring you the way she does her own mother?” She gives Harper a pointed look.

“Momma!” Harper grits her teeth, reaching to take her phone back, but Quincy swats her hand away easily.

“Uh, this is Sam. I’d love to know why she’s ignoring me.” There’s a confusion in his voice, and Harper clenches her fists as she hears Sam’s muffled response.

“Momma, hang up or hand it over,” Harper demands in a low voice.

“Sam, huh? Are you my daughter’s boo thang?” Quincy ignores Harper’s commands.

“No, we’re just friends, for fuck’s sake. Hang up!” Harper makes another failed attempt to grab the phone, while Maisie and Piper simultaneously shout “Yes!” over Harper’s denial.

“Is this a bad time?” Sam’s discomfort is palpable even over the phone.

“Sam, please hang up. I’ll call you later, I swear,” Harper begs loudly to be sure he hears her pleas.

“As you wish.” Sam concedes.

“Who is this joker?” Quincy hands back the phone; Harper snatches it up, checking to see that Sam had hung up.

“Why the  _ fuck _ does everyone feel the need to answer  _ my  _ phone?” Harper’s anger has her pacing now. She takes a deep breath, trying and failing to calm herself down. “I need a fucking cup of coffee,” she mutters before walking away.

* * *

At Quincy’s insistence, Piper and Maisie say their temporary goodbyes and go in search of Harper so as to get on the case. A trip to the local library, and a search through the old newspaper archives, aided by Piper, turn up an article from 1937 featuring the suspected ghost and his victim. The information from the article is along the same lines as Momma Q’s story; though it gives them a few more essential details.

The homeowner that fell victim to the supposed Alcatraz escapee, was a small-time photographer. The remains of both corpses were cremated. All of the photographer’s works and possessions were lost in the fire, except for a single camera, which has been designated as a memorial to the loss of life by that mysterious fire. As soon as the girls finish reading the article, Piper is up and heading for the door, but Harper and Maisie stop her instead of following. 

“Where you going, Red? We still have to do more research on the prisoner,” Harper inquires. Piper gives her a puzzled look.

“Uh, the camera?” Piper answers simply. 

“What camera!? This is no time for your photography obsession.” Harper is beginning to get irritated; she’s in no mood for games.

“The bloody camera that is the only remaining evidence from the house where two people were killed!?” Piper’s demeanor is equally exasperated. Maisie facepalms while Harper simply forms her mouth into a firm line.

“The  _ bloody _ camera? Why are you talking like a British person!?” Harper demands, not ready to admit defeat. 

“Why are you two such idiots sometimes?” Piper shoots back, giving Maisie and especially Harper a ‘ _ what the fuck’  _ look _.  _ Piper then turns on her heel and is gone in a flurry of flaming hair. 

As the sky is thrown into a disarray of storm clouds, the girls make their way back to the mental health facility on Piper’s direction. Maisie and Harper go in search of the old camera, while Piper runs off to find Quincy, keeping them both out of the impending fight. As the girls jog down another corridor they can’t help but notice the goosebumps spreading along their arms and legs as the temperature drops. They prepare to speed up to a run but find no need as they reach the end of the dark corridor abruptly. Faced with two split corridors, the girls only need a second to assess and agree to each take one. Harper is met with an eventual dead-end, whereas Maisie comes to a small hollow with an enclosed window facing out towards the sea. The camera is sat inside of the enclosed area, pointed at the window. 

Maisie looks for a way to get inside of the glass enclosing the camera, but just as her fingers find the coolness of a lock, a sudden flash of lightning momentarily blinds her. She jumps back as the accompanying clap of thunder pounds in her ears. She shakes her head, reaching once again for the lock, and her knife to jimmy it open. She only just misses the flicker of a pale figure before she is thrown against the far wall. The breath is momentarily knocked out of Maisie, but she never loses her grip on her knife. 

As the ghost glides toward her and Maisie bides her time for the right moment, she notices that the ghost doesn’t look like the prisoner. Before she can puzzle over that mystery, the ghost is on her, and she lunges her iron dagger right at its middle. She jumps up and positions her knife as to ram it into the glass case. She pulls a packet of salt and a small travel bottle of lighter fluid from her fanny pack, shaking some of both onto the camera. Glass shatters, lightning strikes, and Maisie lights a match. Maisie whips around to the piercing scream of the ghost; catching a glimpse of its face in the light of the supernatural flames engulfing its form, Maisie realizes the ghost is not the prisoner, but the homeowner.

Harper suddenly appears around the corner, looking sheepish as she notices the flaming camera and shattered glass. “Sorry, I got lost. But, uh, good job, sis.” She starts to shoot finger guns at Maisie, snapping her finger, but upon seeing her sister’s expression, settles for thumbs-up instead. 

“That’s lame,” Maisie retorts, walking away. Harper stares at the mess left behind by Maisie, and after a second of contemplation, decides to leave it and follow after her sister.

The girls find their way to Quincy’s room, making sure there is no more damage along the way. Finding everyone safe, they are ready to say their goodnights. Maisie and Piper start to leave Momma Q’s room, but Harper hangs back. “You two go, I’ll be out there in a minute,” Harper says as she tosses Maisie the keys to her truck. When Harper is finally alone with Momma Q, she begins pacing the floor, trying to decide how to approach the subject on her mind.

“So, how’s Arthur?” Quincy tries gauging the situation with a lighter question. Harper either ignores it, or is too caught up in her own anxious thoughts to even hear. “What’s going on?” Momma Q asks gently this time, before she pats the empty spot beside her on the bed. Harper shakes her head, continuing to pace.

She glances over to her foster mother and takes a deep breath, attempting to calm the anxiety. “I haven’t been sleeping well…” It’s quiet for a moment before Harper continues, “I think it’s partially because of Ellis and worrying about Piper, but…” She stops pacing and turns to face Momma Q. “I’ve started to remember some things about the night you found us.”

Quincy’s fingers gravitate to her bracelet, a gift from her deceased wife, Laelynn, and she subconsciously begins fidgeting with it. Harper notices the nervous tick, frowning at the suspicious realization. “What do you remember?”

“The burning barn. Trying to convince Maisie to calm down and get in the truck.” Harper looks down at the floor as the memory surfaces for a brief moment. She turns her gaze back to Quincy, a slight frown on Harper’s lips. “There’s more to it though, right?”

Momma Q nods solemnly. “You don’t know the whole story. It’s about your parents. And Maisie’s.”

Harper’s hands clench into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms. “I don’t want to know then.” She glances toward the door, deciding if she should simply leave to avoid hearing a tragic truth about her foster sister’s parents.

“I think it’s time you know.”

* * *

Harper bursts out of the facility’s doors, her mind reeling with unwanted information. Even the post-supernatural storm winds fail to cool her heightened temperature. She needs to talk to someone, anyone but Maisie or Momma Q. Her mind suddenly goes to Sam.

“Hello?” He answers the phone after a few rings.

“Sam, what are you doing?” Harper asks, exhaustion heavy in her tone.

“Keeping in touch?” He quips; she can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Sam…” Harper sighs. This isn’t where she was hoping the conversation would go quite yet, but she takes it in stride, somewhat grateful for the distraction. Although, she could do without the banter.

This time, he responds seriously, “I’m trying, Harp, and you’ve been ignoring me. What’s going on? Did I do something?”

“No, you’re fine. I’m just… It’s nothing.” She closes her eyes, listening to the sounds of distant cars and the rustling leaves around her to try to find some semblance of calm. She isn’t ignoring him because of anything he did. She has been ignoring her own feelings regarding him, and taking it out on Sam himself.

Sam is quiet for a moment. “Do you really expect me to believe it’s nothing?” When Harper doesn’t respond, he continues, “I know you, Harp. Something is bothering you. But I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. Just know that I’m here when you do, okay?”

“Thanks,” she says quietly. She opens her eyes, clears her throat, and redirects the conversation. “So are you going to stop calling excessively now?”

“Are you done ignoring me?” Sam asks gently, as if trying not to upset her further.

Harper scoffs, but smiles despite herself. “Yeah, I guess…”

“Then I’ll stop... Also, I’m sorry,” he adds, confusing Harper.

“About what?” 

“The excessive phone calls,” he jokes.

Harper shrugs. “I kind of deserved it.”

“Well, you didn’t deserve me ditching you back at Stanford. I’m sorry for that, too.” Harper stays quiet, wondering where Sam is taking this. “You haven’t asked why I never called,” he prompts carefully, trying to pull a response out of her. 

“I don’t think I want to know.” Harper’s free hand clenches into a fist at the thought of where this could go. Her conversation with Quincy comes back to mind, and suddenly all the anxiety from moments before is rushing back in. 

“I think you deserve to know…” Sam says, but Harper can barely hear him as she starts to pull the phone away from her ear.

Her heartbeat speeds up as her stomach twists into knots at the similarity of these two recent conversations. Maybe she shouldn’t have called Sam. Panic sets in, making it harder for her to breathe. “Ah, shit,” she murmurs as she sits down on a bench outside the facility’s doors. “Deep breathes,” Harper whispers to herself, her heart still hammering. “It’s just Sam apologizing, not some shitty family secret.” After a few deep breathes, Harper lifts the phone back to her ear despite her wildly beating heart. “Sorry,” she whispers.

“Harper, what’s wrong?” Sam’s voice is gentle with a hint of urgency, his concern noticeable.

“It’s nothing,” she says breathlessly.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong.” He’s trying to keep his voice steady, but Harper notes the underlying desperation. He’s trying to help.

She takes a shaky, deep breath, still trying to calm her frayed nerves. She thinks about playing off the moment, but Sam would see through it. “Just having a hard time calming myself down right now. It’ll pass, though. Don’t worry about me.”

“Do you  _ really  _ expect that to make me worry less?”

Harper lets out a weak laugh. “No, I guess not. I’ll be fine in a minute. Just talk to me about something. Tell me why you didn’t call. Anything to distract me, please.”

Silence falls between them for a second before Sam sighs, giving into Harper’s request. “Alright, uh, I was a dumbass twenty-two year old kid, and if I would’ve called you, it would’ve been too tempting to come back to Stanford.”

Harper stays silent as her hectic mind slowly processes his words. “I’m failing to see the issue with that.”

Sam takes a deep breath. “Harper, I had to go, for Jess. For my mom. There was too much unfinished business, and I had to deal with it.”

A silence stretches out between them. Harper looks down at her feet as she replies, “I understand. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“Is that a hint of forgiveness I hear?” Sam teases, eliciting a little smile from Harper. She is finally starting to regain her composure again.

“Only a little bit, though. I can’t let you off the hook too easily.”

Sam’s laugh calms her down a bit more, her smile growing. “Yeah yeah, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

Harper looks back up, her eyes scanning the parking lot. “Oh, shit. I completely forgot about Maisie and Piper. I should probably go.”

“Are you okay now?”

Harper smiles a bit at the concern in his voice. “Yeah, I’m doing better now, Sam. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Harp,” he replies. 

In the background noise over the phone, Harper can hear someone making a whipping sound effect. “Is that Dean?”

“Yeah, he just walked by.”

“Did he make a... whipping sound?” Harper stands up from the bench, and slowly starts walking toward her truck.

“Yeah, he thinks you’ve got me whipped,” Sam scoffs.

Harper laughs, finally feeling like her usual self again. “Of course, you’re fucking whipped! You’ve got some making up to do, so you’re mine until all is forgiven,” she teases, and Sam lets out a groan.

“Not you, too.”

“No one to blame but yourself,” she says smugly. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Sam retorts, amusement clear in his voice.

Harper smirks. “Yeah, lucky you. I’ll talk to you later.” She finally reaches the truck; Maisie and Piper sit in the cab, listening to music with the engine running.

“You better. Bye, Harp. Call me if you need to talk some more,” he adds, sounding more relaxed than he did at the beginning of their phone call.

“Thanks. Bye, Sam.” Harper hangs up and makes herself take a deep breath, before entering the driver’s seat of the truck. She’s quiet as she takes her position behind the wheel, refusing to make eye contact with Maisie or Piper.

Maisie and Piper share a look as Harper pulls the truck out of the parking lot. “So, you finally call your love?” Maisie asks from the backseat. Harper slowly shifts her gaze to look at Maisie in the rearview mirror.

“I’m not in love with Sam,” Harper deadpans. 

Maisie grins slyly. “I never said Sam…”

“Ah, the first stage of love: denial. It’s okay, Harp, I’ve been there.” Piper tries to smile, but it quickly falls as she thinks of Ellis. Maisie catches the falling mood, and quickly redirects back to Harper and Sam.

“You’ve literally been in love with him since college, why are you trying to deny it now?”

Harper opens her mouth to respond but closes it almost immediately, unsure of how to respond to Maisie’s question. “I’m not in love with him,” Harper mumbles, as if saying it again will convince everyone, including herself, to believe those words.


	10. Whipped (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Screen by twenty one pilots
> 
> Sam has no chill whatsoever when it comes to Harper… and I have no chill when it comes to this ship -mara

* * *

 

Sitting in the library of the bunker, Sam finds himself calling Harper for a second time in the last five minutes. She hasn’t been responding to him, whether text or phone call, in days and he doesn’t know why. So he’s calling yet again.

There’s a sound over the phone, signalling that she’s answered. Hope and relief surges through Sam. “Hey,” he says, trying not to sound as elated as he feels.

“Oh, hey Sam,” Maisie practically purrs over the line, and Sam deflates at the sound of her voice. “Harper’s driving right now. She’ll call you back later.” A muffled voice rumbles in the background noise over the phone.

_ I doubt it _ , Sam thinks, but instead responds, “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

“Oh, she also says she loves you,” Maisie teases.

Then he hears Harper’s immediate protest clearly through the phone. “Hang up the fucking phone!” Laughter rolls out of Sam even at the sound of her irritated voice. 

The call ends, but Sam’s smile stays. Dean walks into the room as Sam is sending Harper a quick text to call him later. His brother gives him a curious look, an eyebrow raised and a slight smirk, but stays silent as he continues on his way to the garage. 

Throughout the rest of the day, Sam continues to call and leave short voicemails to Harper, feeling confused and tense from her long silence. She had asked him to keep in touch and he is keeping his promise, although too excessively today. He wants to understand why she’s doing this. Even back in college, Harper wouldn’t shut him out like this. 

“Sam!” Dean says loudly, as if this isn’t the first time he called for his brother’s attention. Sam looks away from his phone to make eye contact with Dean, who puts his burger down before wiping his face with a napkin. “What’s with you today?”

“Nothing,” Sam responds, trying to play off his distractedness, but sighs heavily after a moment of silence and pointed look from Dean. “It’s just Harper…” he trails off as he starts pushing around the contents of his salad with a fork.

“Are the girls okay?” Dean asks, his face dropping with a twinge of concern in his voice.

“Yeah… Harper’s just been ignoring me, that’s all.” Sam shrugs and takes a bite of his dinner. 

Disbelief crosses Dean’s features. “Is  _ that  _ who you’ve been calling all day?” Sam ignores his question, taking another bite. “Seriously, Sammy? Give Human Resources a break. You’re gonna scare her off,” he adds before taking a sip of his beer.

“She was getting on me for not keeping in touch, and now she’s ignoring me?” Sam finally voices the confusion he’s been feeling for the last couple of days. “I’m not going to scare her off. She knows I’m trying to prove a point,” he adds, his tone slightly aggravated. 

Dean shakes his head. “Seriously though, stop calling her so much.”

“I can’t,” Sam says under his breath.

“Man, she’s got you whipped already,” Dean says before letting out a laugh.

Sam glares at his brother. “Shut up, I am  _ not _ whipped.” His phone buzzes, and Sam quickly looks down to check it, hoping it’s Harper. A sigh escapes Sam’s lips when he sees that it’s not her.

Dean makes a whipping sound effect with the equivalent hand motion. Sam glares at him before taking another bite of salad, and Dean can’t help the laughter that rumbles out of him.

* * *

The following morning, Sam decides to call Harper and immediately regrets it when he realizes her foster mother is the one who answered it. “Are you my daughter’s boo thang?” she asks and Harper’s response is almost immediate.

“Just friends, for fuck’s sake,” Harper seethes. Even over the phone, Sam can almost feel her anger. In the background, there is a muffled “yes” and suddenly, he realizes how uncomfortable this situation has made him. 

He sits down on his bed, shifting awkwardly, and asks, “Is this a bad time?” Harper begs him to hang up and swears to call him. That’s good enough for him. “As you wish,” he responds, and as he’s about to end the call, he hears Harper’s foster mother.

“Who is this joker?”

Sam hangs up after hearing that, not wishing to eavesdrop further. He stares at his open bedroom door, the conversation reeling through his mind over and over. Was Harper angry because her family keeps answering her phone? Or was it because now she knows she can’t ignore him anymore? He had called, hoping that a conversation with her would make him feel better, but that conversation only made him feel worse. He decides to wait this time around for Harper to call him, but sends one last text before embracing the silence between them.

 

- _ Harp, we need to talk. Call me when you can. _

 

He stares at his phone for a minute, silently pleading for a response, but he doesn’t get one.

* * *

Harper’s calling. Sam stares at his phone screen with a mix of disbelief and joy for a moment. She’s actually calling. “Hello?” he says, a smile playing on his lips.

“Sam, what are you doing?” Harper sounds slightly exasperated and exhausted, but he can’t help the amusement he feels in this moment. 

_ God, it’s good to hear her voice again _ .

After some slight teasing, Sam finally asks the questions for which he’s been dying to get answers, but Harper pushes back, refusing to give a straight answer to most of them. He knows something is wrong. Why won’t she confide in him like she used to? He has to shake himself out of that mindset. It’s been twelve years since she did that. He can’t expect her to open up again so quickly after everything that’s happened between them. He needs to let her open up in her own timing. 

“So are you going to stop calling excessively now?” Harper not-so-subtly changes the subject, and Sam lets it slide though as he walks into his bedroom to be sure he won’t be overheard by Dean.

“Are you done ignoring me?” He retorts gently, not wanting to push her too much.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Then I’m done… Also I’m sorry,” Sam starts, ready to apologize for everything he’s messed up over the years. He wants to explain himself, to ease his guilty mind, but more importantly, ease Harper’s disappointment toward him. As he is finally getting around to explaining his past actions, Harper seems to disappear on the other side of the phone.

Sam can still hear the background noises and the occasional whisper of Harper’s voice, but she isn’t talking to him. It sounds like she’s talking to herself. “It’s just Sam, not some shitty family secret.” Confusion and curiosity courses through Sam. What’s going on with her family?

Harper takes a few deep breathes, trying to calm herself down, before she whispers a soft “sorry.” Sam notes the quiet panic in her tone, and suddenly, concern is weighing heavily on him.

“Harper, what’s wrong?” He can’t hide how much he cares. She tries to brush it off, but Sam isn’t giving up so easily. “Please, tell me what’s wrong,” he says, trying not to sound as desperate as he feels. He  _ needs  _ to know she’s okay. 

Her voice is shaky as she responds, trying to convince him not to worry. It’s too late for that. He is beyond being simply worried. He is ready to run to her side, to help her calm down, and to hold her until she is alright again.

“I’ll be fine in a minute,” Harper says, trying to sound convincing. “Just talk to me about something. Tell me why you didn’t call. Anything, please.”

The begging “please” almost sends him out the door, but instead, he stays quiet for a second, convincing himself that she will be okay. Sam gives in to her wishes, explaining why he left in the hope that this would distract from her panic. Slowly over the course of the conversation, Harper starts to relax, and as she relaxes, Sam begins to, as well. 

“Are you okay now?” He asks before Harper has a chance to say goodbye.

“Yeah, I’m doing better now, Sam. Thank you,” she replies and he can practically hear the smile in her voice. He is glad he could help, even if it was in a small way.

“Anything for you, Harp,” he replies as Dean walks by the open bedroom door. Sam looks over to his brother, making eye contact with him as Dean makes the whipping sound effect and hand gesture before continuing on his way. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Is that Dean?”

_ Ah, shit, she heard him _ . “Yeah, he just walked by.”

“Did he make a… whipping sound?” She hesitates mid-question. He understands the confusion.

“Yeah, he thinks you’ve got me whipped.”

Harper starts laughing, and Sam finally feels like he can relax completely again. She’s okay now. Hearing her laugh is a relief to him. “Of course, you’re fucking whipped! You’ve got some making up to do, so you’re mine until all is forgiven.” 

“Not you, too,” he groans, but can’t help smiling. If Sam’s hers until all is forgiven, he almost hopes Harper never forgives him.

“No one to blame but yourself,” she teases. Yeah, she’s definitely feeling better now.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Sam quips as he tries to suppress the laughter building up in him.

They exchange goodbyes and promises to talk again soon. Harper hangs up, leaving Sam with a smile as he looks forward to future days with her, including the sassy, teasing banter and even the bouts of arguing. He won't make the same mistake again. He is going to do all he can to make up for the last twelve years of silence, because she is worth fighting for.

 


	11. Slumber Party Extravaganza (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Up All Night by One Direction (only ironically)
> 
> CAS IN PJS

* * *

 

“Takeout?” Piper asks Harper.

“Chinese, pizza, and pancakes. Check,” Harper answers, surveying the laid out essentials, splayed out across the living room floor, for their impending slumber party. Piper nods, looking back to the list.

“Chocolate?” Piper queries next.

“A shit ton,” is Harper’s hearty affirmation.

“You could have just said check,” Piper comments without looking up from the list. “Sparklers? Really, Maisie.”

“Check.” Piper’s head pops up, not having expected the sparklers to be a reality. Looking resigned, Harper holds up the sparklers in one hand and a small fire extinguisher in the other. With a shake of her head, Piper continues on with the list.

“Alright, last one. PJ’s for Cas?” A feeling rushes through Piper, one she can’t quite put her finger on, but it fades to the background as Harper is drawing her attention again.

“Check.”

* * *

_Two days ago_

 

“Cas! Good, you picked up,” Maisie excitedly greets Cas’ voice.

“Hello, Maisie. Is something wrong? Do you need assistance?”

“Nah, nothing’s wrong, but we do need your… assistance in a way.” Maisie tries to hold her laughter.

“How can I help?” Cas asks in earnest.

“You can come be our man candy for our sleepover!” As soon as Maisie gets this out, a small giggle escapes. There is a short silence over the phone, and Maisie is concerned she may have scared him off. But he slowly responds in a confused voice.

“But I am not man nor candy, I am an angel.” Maisie can’t help the laughter bursting out now.

“Cas, you don’t have to be anything, just come and have fun with us!”

“Well, I suppose I could spare a night. The Winchester’s don’t seem to need me.”

“Bingpot! Okay, come on Saturday, whenever you want. And don’t forget your PJ’s!” Maisie gushes.

“PJ’s? Who is that? Does he need a ride?” Cas puzzles causing Maisie to laugh once again.

“Oh, Cas, I love you. Don’t worry about it, just get yourself over here. See you Saturday!” Cas is still contemplating over all Maisie has relayed as she hangs up. Finally he tries to reply, without noticing the call is over.

“I… love you too..?” When there is only silence on the other end, he pulls the phone away from his ear and sees the call is disconnected. Dean is walking over to Cas from the fridge just as he slips the phone back into his pocket.

“Who was that, Romeo?” Dean quirks an eyebrow at Cas as he raises his beer.

“Oh, it was Maisie,” Cas answers simply, not noticing Dean’s hand hesitating before it reaches his lips, or the clench of his jaw.

“I’m going to the Safehouse on Saturday,” Cas informs. Dean simply nods, muttering an unenthusiastic “great”, before turning to stride from the room.

“At least I was wearing pants,” Cas calls after Dean, with a small, crooked smirk, a sign of his attempt at cracking a joke. Dean can’t help but laugh, the sound ringing through the halls of the bunker.

* * *

_Present day- Saturday night_

 

Cas walks up the steps leading to the Safehouse door, pulling at his tie in an attempt to casually loosen it before knocking on the wide, oak door. He isn't left waiting even a minute, before the door is flung open and a slightly flushed and widely grinning Maisie greets him, wearing a blue, unicorn onesie.

“Cas! Our angel, you made it!” Maisie grabs him by his coat sleeves and tugs him inside. Upon entering the living room, Cas is greeted by a quietly smiling Piper, and Harper shoving a large, adult onesie at his chest.

“Um, thank you, but I already have clothes.” Cas says apologetically. All three girls shake their heads at this.

“Cas, you can’t wear that to a sleepover,” Harper mock-scolds, trying to contain a laugh. Holding the onesie out in front of him for a better look, Cas nods solemnly, as if he understands. His onesie is white, scattered with various articles related to Christmastime.

“We didn’t know what you liked so, we just thought Christmas, God, angels… It works, right?” Harper tries to explain with a shrug. Cas squints his eyes for a moment, before nodding slowly and going to the bathroom to change. Meanwhile, Piper shakes her head, telling the sisters it really doesn’t work.

Once Cas reappears in his new attire, the girls tell him to take a seat and settle in for the movie they have prepared; Captain America: Civil War is ready to start. Throughout the movie, as each character appears, they begin comparing them to the boys.

“Dean is so Captain America!” Maisie expresses, making Harper’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my God, that makes Sam, Bucky!” Harper marvels. She turns back to the movie as Black Widow comes on screen, before looking away once more and stating to Piper, “That you.”

“I’ll take that,” Piper concedes. “Who is Cas, though?” She adds, looking from Harper to Maisie, then landing on Cas for a moment before turning back to the screen. The girls have to contemplate over this for a while, until finally, Scott Lang’s scene comes around and the girls exclaim a collective “Duh!” while Cas simply comments.

“I am not sure I see the resemblance myself, but I will take your word for it.”

This was only the beginning of the Slumber Party Extravaganza, the laughter that follows, echoing until the morning light.


	12. Love, Peace, and Rock & Roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: This Is Gospel by Panic! At the Disco / Sign of the Times by Harry Styles
> 
> this is our rendition of how Rock Never Dies (ep. 7 of season 12) occurs with the girls! So if you were wondering what season of supernatural this all starts in, it's season 12 :) by the way, Piper is at the Safehouse with the dogs, chilling in this part if you’re wondering lol

* * *

 

Harper’s truck rolls to a stop in front of a luxurious hotel in Los Angeles, causing her to throw Maisie a questioning look. “This can't be it… Are you  _ sure _ this is the address Cas sent you?” Maisie shrugs, hopping out of the truck, as Harper throws it into park before following suit. 

“One of the boys must’ve sold their soul to the devil to stay in this place,” Maisie comments under her breath. 

Harper shoots her an unimpressed look. “Really?”

They walk toward the front doors and find Cas, waiting on the sidewalk for their arrival. The girls’ faces light up at the sight of him, despite the grim situation that has brought them together. “Cas!” Maisie calls happily. Turning toward the sound of her voice, Cas nods at them in greeting.

“What’s with the fancy hotel? Who’s staying here?” Harper asks instead of giving him a ‘hello.’

“Lucifer,” Cas responds in a matter-of-fact tone; Harper raises her eyebrow, but says nothing. “The Winchesters are waiting inside for my return. Crowley, too, unfortunately,” he adds with a look of displeasure.

“Have you found him yet?” Maisie asks.

Cas shakes his head. “He’s at an exclusive concert. My contact didn’t come through. I do not think anyone else retrieved the information we need, either.” Harper lets out a sigh before gesturing for Cas to lead the way inside the hotel.

Cas saunters into the lobby with Maisie and Harper close behind. “Cas,” Sam sounds surprised. “Maisie? Harper? What are you doing here?”

“Here to help,” Harper responds simply, earning a frown from Sam. 

Cas makes it to the empty chair near Crowley first, but gestures for Maisie to take a seat. Smiling, Maisie puts her hand on his arm for a brief moment as she walks around him to the chair. “Thanks,” Maisie says as she sits, and Cas stands nearby her. Watching Cas and Maisie, Dean attempts to keep a straight face despite the turmoil of emotions, stirring inside him at the ease of their exchange.

Harper takes a seat in between Crowley and Sam on the couch. “So, you must be Crowley,” she prompts, glancing over at him. Sam stares at Harper, as if he couldn’t believe she is sitting next to him.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart.” Crowley’s remark rolls easily off his tongue. Feeling slightly uncomfortable by the nickname, Harper glances over to Sam, but chooses to ignore his unhappy expression.

Dean takes the moment of silence as an opportunity. “So, anything, Cas?”

“No.” Cas lets out a gruff sigh as he speaks.

“So, we couldn’t flip a single member of Vince’s team. Even with the threat of mass murder, these SoCal douchebags wouldn’t do the right thing.” Dean’s comment reveals his frustration despite the straight face he struggles to keep.

“Welcome to Los Angeles,” Crowley quips sarcastically.

“So, what’s next then?” Maisie asks, glancing around the room at all the defeated faces, and only earning a shrug from Harper.

“We’ll figure it out.” She looks at Sam with a half smile, trying to cheer him, but to no avail.

“Why did you come?” He asks, irritation clear in his tone.

“Because Cas called, and you need us,” she responds defensively. Sam and Dean both glance at Cas, who nods with his usual serious expression.

“You shouldn’t have come.” Sam crosses his arms over his chest.

“Seriously?” Harper scoffs, turning her body toward him, their knees bumping. “Lucifer is killing people, you’re trying to stop him, and you want  _ me  _ to sit on the fucking sidelines?” Dean glances over at Maisie, thinking something along the same lines. Feeling Dean’s eyes on her, Maisie glances his way and raises an eyebrow at him, as if asking whether he’ll try to fight her on this. Dean shrugs, knowing he’ll never with that fight.

“Yeah, I do. It’s a suicide mission.” Sam counters, anger starting to seep into his tone.

“We have a better chance of surviving if we all fight.” Harper clenches her fists in her lap, trying not to let her anger control her tongue.

“There’s also a greater chance for one of us to die.” Sam angles his body more toward Harper, placing his arm around the back of the couch behind her shoulders. “I don’t want you  _ or  _ Maisie on this hunt.”

“Don’t bring me into your lovers’ quarrel,” Maisie interjects. Cas and Dean share a look, unsure what to do or how to react to the situation, while Crowley looks amused. 

“Why do you suddenly not want me here?” Harper redirects, keeping Maisie out like she requested. Besides, this is between her and Sam. He looks away from her, refusing to respond.

“Hey guys,” Cas interrupts, gesturing to his phone. “Tommy texted me the venue.”

“Let’s go, then.” Harper jumps up from the couch, heading toward the door. Everyone else follows suit, rising from their seats. 

“I’m going with you,” Sam says, promptly following after Harper, who is already halfway out the door. “Slow down, Harp.”

“Keep up,” Harper shoots over her shoulder without a glance. Crowley claps his hands together, practically relishing over the discord in the air. 

“This is going to be fun,” Crowley grins devilishly at the others, before hastening after Sam and Harper. “I’m coming with!”

Maisie shakes her head as Dean breaks out into a smile. “ _ That _ will be an interesting car ride,” Dean comments, laughter lacing his tone, but when he looks at his group and thinks the exact same thing, the amusement fades away. The three of them walk outside into the cool, nighttime air, and hop into the Impala. Cas opens the passenger seat for Maisie, before sliding into the backseat. 

As Dean’s music plays through the speakers, Maisie’s inability to sing doesn’t keep her from serenading Cas loudly with a carefree grin on her face. When she sings to him, missing practically every note of the strong rock ballad all about a burning love, Dean’s jaw clenches, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. Neither Maisie nor Cas notice as they merely enjoy the drive and the music floating through the car. Cas even joins in for the last chorus. On the other hand, Dean couldn’t wait to get out of the car; he would rather fight the devil himself than third-wheel in his Baby.

Meanwhile, Crowley sits in the backseat of Harper’s truck, happily being the odd one out as he basks in Sam and Harper’s argument. “So?” Harper asks sharply after a minute of silence. “Why don’t you want me here?” Her grip on the steering wheel tightens as she follows Dean’s Impala down the Los Angeles streets. 

Sam glances back at Crowley, silently conveying his discomfort at revealing information in his presence, but as he looks back at Harper, quietly seething with a death-grip on the wheel, he realizes he would rather talk about this in front of Crowley than deal with Harper’s wrath. Letting out a sigh, Sam decides to actively ignore the demon in the backseat, pretending like it’s only himself and Harper.

“I’m worried,” he starts.

Harper’s stern expression soften slightly, and her grip loosens. “About what? Me?” Sam nods.

“You’ve been having a hard time lately. I mean, you lost your friend recently and had a anxiety attack while on the phone with me about a week ago. I’m just… worried about you.” Sam’s tone is gentle and disarming, melting Harper’s anger away slowly.

“I’m fine,” she insists softly. “But what does this have to do with this case?” Harper adds quickly before Sam can refute her statement.

“My point is, I was worried about you before this case, and when you got here, I guess you surprised me. I don’t want this Lucifer problem to become another thing for you to deal with. You have enough on your plate, Harp.” Sam stares at her, deciphering her reaction.

She frowns slightly, but her gaze stays on the road. “I can handle this.”

“I know,” Sam says, a small smile on his lips. “You’re a smart, badass hunter, so of course, you can.” At the compliment, Harper can’t help the smile that blooms on her face. “But appease some of my worry by sticking near me when the fighting breaks out?”

Harper nods, smiling. “Anything for you, Sam.” She glances at him, momentarily making eye contact and noting the look on his face. He wants to reach out to give her a reassuring touch, and he almost does.

“Wow,” Crowley disrupts the moment. “The sexual tension is unbearable. Let’s pull over, and the three of us can hop into the bed of the truck, hmm?”

Suddenly, the truck jerks; the surprise from the comment causes Harper to accidentally jump on the brake. “What the fuck. Sorry,” she bumbles; the awkwardness of the situation finally occurs to her. Sam looks as uncomfortable as her before he shoots a ‘shut the hell up’ glare at Crowley. Thankfully, they don’t have time to revel in their embarrassment as both the Impala and the truck comes to a stop in front of their destination. Piling out of the vehicles, the two groups assemble on the sidewalk a block away from the concert venue.

“So, how was your drive?” Dean asks with a smug smile on his face. Cas steps away from the group as he pulls out his phone to call one of Ladyheart’s bandmates, Tommy, their inside man.

Sam clears his throat. “It was, uh, fine. Harper and I are good now.” Although, Harper still appears uncomfortable. Dean raises an eyebrow, and Maisie gives her sister a questioning glance.

“Yes, they had a riveting heart-to-heart,” Crowley says, trying to push the conversation along. “I had a nice view from the backseat.”

“Sorry about arguing in front of you guys.” Harper finally manages to speak despite her embarrassment, deciding to steer the conversation away from the car ride. 

Cas turns back to the group, hanging up his phone. “Tommy’s still not answering.”

“He got us here. That’s all that matters.” Dean pulls out handcuffs and closes the truck of the Impala.

“Enochian handcuffs? That’s your move?” Crowley comments, a tinge of disbelief in his voice.

“They held me,” Cas defends, as he tries calling Tommy once again. Harper and Maisie share a look, both wondering what the story was behind that.

“You’re not him,” Crowley counters.

“Yeah, well we have no sure bets here, okay? Anything we use will be like popping BBs.” Dean admits, his tone strong and commanding.

Sam shifts on his feet, bumping his arm into Harper, and mutters, “See? Suicide mission.”

Harper gently nudges him back. “We’ll be fine,” she tries to reassure him, although her words fall short.

“Oh, great pep talk. Go team,” Crowley adds flatly.

“Guys, we’re here to do more than just take a shot on Lucifer,” Sam reminds them. 

“We are?” Crowley raises his eyebrows at him.

“Yes, we have to save the people inside, too.” Sam gives Crowley a subtle look.

Maisie looks around their circle, a ragtag team composed of hunters, an angel, and a demon. “And we  _ will  _ save them,” Maisie adds, a confidence in her voice that bolsters each member.

“I’ll take Lucifer. He’s my responsibility.” Cas glances around to his friends.

“No, he’s not.” Sam’s tone conveys a sense of frustration. “He’s all of our responsibility.”

“Well, the only way we can clear that crowd without drawing fire is if he’s otherwise engaged.” Cas proposes his idea as if it’s their only hope.

“Engaged in what, Cas? Killing you?” Dean’s anger rises to the surface briefly.

“You can’t go alone, Cas,” Maisie adds, going for a more gentle approach. Dean glances at Maisie and then Cas, attempting to decipher where she’s going with this.

“Yeah, you’ll last three minutes, tops.” Sam doesn’t add any reassurance to the idea, causing Harper to give him a look, as if trying to imply he shouldn’t be so harsh.

“Then I’ll give you three minutes,” Cas replies, unwavering; Sam and Dean look exasperated by Cas’ stubborn behavior.

After a second of silence, Crowley adds to everyone’s surprise, “Make it four... What? I help.” With nothing left to add, Sam and Dean start walking away from the cars to the doors of the concert venue. Maisie gives Cas a quick hug before she and Harper follow behind the boys.

“You have fun in the Impala with Dean and Cas?” Harper asks, keeping in stride with her sister, who nods enthusiastically. 

“Yup, Dean has good taste in music.” Maisie smiles. “What about you? Sam and Crowley, huh?”

Harper groans and throws her head back for a second. “Remind me to tell you about it later. You will not fucking believe what Crowley said to us.” She shakes her head. 

“ _ Us _ ?” Maisie grins, and Harper rolls her eyes, electing to ignore her comment as they stride into the packed concert hall. Harper stays close to Sam, pushing their way through the crowd, while Maisie follows behind Dean. 

Sam and Dean make eye contact from across the room, signalling the start of their plan as the music starts up. “Does anyone smell smoke?” Dean tries to say over the roar of the crowd. Maisie lifts an eyebrow in disbelief, directing it at Dean.

On the other side of the room, Sam nudges Harper, prompting her to get ready to pull the fire alarm while he keeps an eye on the security guard. “Are you sure this is gonna work?” She asks, but continues along with the plan. 

“No, seriously. I think I smell smoke, everyone,” Dean insists, drawing the attention of a random, entitled, white man.

“Sure you’re not having a stroke?” 

“Hey, I’m serious. We need to get out of here,” Dean responds, over the sound of Maisie’s unhelpful laughter, and puts a hand on his arm. The man pushes his arm away.

“Step off, dad.”

Maisie’s laughter subsides, her smile replaced by an unimpressed look that would make Harper proud. Stepping around Dean, she stares the man down. “If he’s a fucking dad, then you’re the creepy ass uncle no one likes.”

“What, you’re not man enough to handle this so you set your bitch on me?” The man scoffs.

Jaw clenched, Dean forcefully grabs the man by the collar of his shirt. “Call her a bitch. One. More. Time.” Before a fight can break out between the two, Maisie and the security guard pull Dean away from the man, and Harper makes her move on the fire alarm. The alarm rings out only long enough to drag the security guard’s attention away from the situation with Dean, before Lucifer shuts it off with a twirl of his finger; the music amps up even louder this time, drowning out the hunter’s attempt at evacuation. 

At Sam’s side once again, Harper keeps a straight face at the outcome. “Don’t tell me you told me so,” Sam says, glancing at her.

A smug smile turns up the corner of Harper’s mouth. “I don’t have to.” 

Lucifer struts out on stage and grabs the microphone, calling out, “Hello, L.A.! What a crowd. Look at those fresh, new faces. Everyone excited?” The crowd cheers at his words as the hunters reconvene together in the middle of the room. “Yeah, you should be. Tonight’s not gonna be a typical show. Tonight you’re gonna see and feel things you never saw or felt before. Things might get a bit... messy.”

“Ah, screw it,” Dean mumbles before pulling out his gun and shooting it into the air. “He’s got a gun!” He yells out through the momentary silence that followed the gunshot. The hunters start filing everyone out of the room, but Lucifer tries to use his powers to shut the double doors, causing Sam, Harper, and Maisie to struggle with holding them open. Everyone but the four hunters manage to get out before the doors shut. 

“Hey, assbutt,” Cas says, and swings a guitar at Lucifer’s face, causing him to fall against the drums on stage. Cas is about to swing the instrument again, but Lucifer delivers a swift kick, sending Cas backward. Dean doesn’t waste this opportunity to handcuff the deteriorating archangel, before Lucifer throws Dean from the stage. Sam comes to his brother’s aid, followed by the Raven sisters.

“Enjoy the show?” Lucifer asks as he stares down at them. “Guys, you know I could end you all with a snap of my fingers?” Cas is back on his feet with his angel’s blade at the ready as Lucifer continues, “But why would I do that when you can’t do anything…” Lucifer throws his hand up, his power sending Cas to his knees. “...To me?”

“Why are you doing this?” Dean demands, taking a step forward to stay in front of the others.

“You and God made up. You forgave him! What would he think?” Sam argues.

“I’m not especially interested in his opinion. Dear old dad, he finally apologized for abandoning me, and… What’s the very next thing he does?!” Lucifer shouts, anger and hurt written over his features. “He ditches me,” he says, quieter. “And you, too, by the way. And rides off into the sunset with Auntie Amara,” he adds, dramatically gesturing with his hands as he speaks. “He needed my help, and he’d say anything to get it. His words, your words, they mean  _ nothing _ .” Lucifer pauses. Glances are shared between the hunters as they are all absorbed by the devil’s words.

“Oh my god, will he just shut the fuck up already?” Harper mumbles to Maisie, sharing an exasperated look with her. Sam throws Harper a look, and she clamps her mouth shut, realizing the boys probably want to hear every word.

“Don’t you get it? This is  _ all  _ meaningless. Heaven, hell, this world… if it ever meant anything, that moment has passed. Nothing down here, but a bunch of hopeless, distraction addicts, so filled with emptiness, so desperate to fill up the void; they don’t mind being served another stale rerun of a rerun of a rerun.” As Lucifer speaks, the state of his vessel continues to decompose. “Do you want to know what my plan is? I don’t have one! I’m just going to keep smashing Daddy’s already broken toys and make you watch!” He points to the Winchesters, and the girls glance at one another, trying to understand the situation with their limited knowledge of the Winchesters’ past dealing with the devil.

“Yeah? ‘Cause it kind of looks like you’re falling apart,” Sam quips, finally interrupting Lucifer’s never ending monologue.

“Yeah, you got a little something right there,” Dean says, pointing above his own eyebrow. “I mean, face it, rock is dead.”

“What can I say?” Lucifer’s vessel deteriorates more rapidly now. “Kicking your asses took a lot out of me. But don’t worry. Onward and upward,” he adds, before his essence leaves the decomposing vessel, blinding the hunters with the bright light.

“Well, he's got style?” Maisie lightly attempts to lift the mood as they all recover their sight. “Speaking of style, nice move with the guitar, Cas,” Maisie adds, with a single finger gun in Cas’ direction. Nonetheless, her comments are only met with a tired shake of the head or a pointed, unimpressed stare. 

After reuniting with Crowley, the group makes their way back outside toward the vehicles. Dean throws the equipment they carried with them, back in Baby’s trunk, before turning back to the group and taking his spot in between Maisie and Harper. “How you feelin’?” he asks Cas, who is standing on the other side of Maisie.

“I’m not dead,” Cas replies, earning a weak smile and thumbs up from Maisie.

Dean looks over to Crowley, thanking him. “Well, I gotta hand it to ya, you said you would draw Lucifer’s fire and you drew some serious fire.” 

“Oh, it was a grand success,” Crowley mumbles through his swollen face, sharing a look with Dean before the debriefing continues.

“Well, we didn’t catch Lucifer, but we did save the crowd. So I’m gonna call that a win.”

“I wouldn’t,” Sam counters. “Vince Vincente is dead.”

Harper glances over at him, then to Maisie, wondering where he’s going with this; Maisie shrugs as if she could hear Harper’s internal questions. Dean, on the other hand, looks surprised by his comment.

“We never even hoped to save him. And yes, I know, the third album…” Dean starts to amend, but Sam interrupts.

“No, he was still a person. He meant something to a lot of people. Lucifer just took all that and twisted all that up and snuffed it out. Lucifer was bad enough when he had a plan, a motive. Now he’s just having fun. I mean, how many people died tonight? Them, this, it’s all on us,” Sam argues in a disappointed, sad tone. “We let him out. We’re not winning. We’re just losing slow,” Sam scoffs. “And you heard what he said.”

“Onward and upward,” Crowley reminds everyone. “He’s gone big.”

“And he’ll go bigger,” Cas adds, discouraging the group further.

“And we’ll stop him.” Dean retorts, a note of finality in his voice. “We will. It’s what we do.” He glances around the circle, making brief eye contact with everyone. 

Sam turns away, glancing at the police cars and ambulance parked outside the concert venue; Harper watches him, trying to find the right words, as the others form their own conversations. She glances back at the group, checking to see if they’re distracted, before she slips her hand into Sam’s to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“At least, we made it out okay,” Harper points out, although it comes out awkwardly. Usually, she’s not the one to try to be optimistic about any given situation.

Sam gives her a weak smile, acknowledging her attempt. “Yeah… I’m glad you’re okay.” He squeezes her hand back, finding comfort in her touch.

“Glad you’re okay, too.” Harper smiles, even though her heart isn’t in it as the outcome of the night keeps reeling in her head. She releases his hand and crosses her arms over her chest, turning to face him. “But what's with the clothes? You and Dean making fun of me for my all black aesthetic? Which I rock, by the way.”

Sam grins, glancing down at his black leather jacket and dark-wash jeans. “Yeah, we can't rock it like you can, but we were trying to fit in for the case.” Harper rolls her eyes, but can't help the smile that his compliment causes.

* * *

With Cas and Crowley already long gone, Maisie leaves the last sweep of the motel rooms to Sam and Harper, and heads to the far side of the parking lot where she spotted Dean, beer in hand, taking in the view of the California valley. 

“Sure you should leave the kids to themselves? We might never get out of here,” Dean quips; though his stiff shoulders betray his tone. He doesn’t even bother to look as Maisie approaches and leans on the railing next to him.

“Dean, for what it’s worth, I think you’re right. This was a win. I mean, in this life, we’ve got to take them whenever we can. We did our job, we saved  _ all _ those people, even that one jackass,” Maisie coaxes the tension from Dean’s demeanor, putting a hand on his forearm, and he finally faces her. 

“Don’t remind me of the jackass.” Maisie rolls her eyes at Dean’s exaggeratedly sour expression as she pulls her hand away.

“You weren’t actually gonna punch him, were you? We had a plan, but you looked like you wanted to take it a little too far... I don’t need my ‘honor defended,’ you know.” Maisie gives Dean a keen look; he scoffs, but looks away, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously.

“Maybe I was defending my own honor,” Dean counters with a smirk, yet a vulnerable look struggles to stay hidden in his eyes.

“Okay, princess, just say the word, and I’ll go fetch my unicorn to hunt the bastard down,” Maisie teases back conspiratorially. 

“I’m gonna have to pass on that nickname, sweetheart,” Dean laughs.

“Geez, you are so picky! What am I supposed to call you then?” Maisie mocks annoyance, while Dean looks thoughtful. Suddenly, a smirk slowly creeps across his face, and he takes half a step closer.

“You could call me yours.” Maisie’s lips part slightly, the mock annoyance disappearing and an elated light dancing in her eyes. Maisie takes her own half step forward, looking down at the small space left between them, before dragging her eyes back up to meet his.

“Only if it’s mutual,” she says softly. Dean’s eyes can’t help but stray to Maisie’s lips, finding himself unable to move his own. 

“Enjoying the view?” Maisie breathes. He can feel her breath fan across his face, warm like a match, striking something inside of Dean. The flames drives any doubts from Dean’s thoughts; he threads his fingers through Maisie’s hair and pulls her flush to him. Their lips meld together in a perfect instant. A spark. A strike of lightning. Then, like a candle snuffed out, Dean is suddenly pushing away from Maisie.

“God, no, we can't do this.” Dean turns away, not wanting to look her in the eye.

“I- uh, I'm sorry…?” Confusion laces Maisie’s query. 

“I think I just need to get out of the picture.” Dean concedes, as if he didn’t hear her bewilderment, with his words directed at the ground. Maisie’s confusion changes into dejection at his response.

“But, Dean-!” She tries to argue, but Dean cuts her off.

“It's okay, I want you to be happy,” he says lowly, his face softening as his eyes flick to hers for a moment.

“Then stay,” Maisie utters barely above a whisper. Dean’s eyes are suddenly unclear, a light misting taking over, but he quickly looks away once again.  

“No.” 

Maisie tries to reach out to him, but with a clench of his jaw and a shake of his head, he walks away. Maisie quickly retracts her outstretched hand to cover her mouth, not wanting any sound to escape along with the few stray tears streaking down her face. Maisie turns toward the view of the rolling hills below, not wanting to watch Dean walk away from her and her breaking heart.


	13. The Rewind (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Fiction by The xx
> 
> We played around with a different way to do this one, so we hope y’all like it! If you have any questions, comments, or you just want to rant about Dean being a dumbass or Harper and Sam being too damn cute, please send us an ask!!

* * *

 

Harper’s fist collides with Dean’s jaw, the force sending him stumbling back; he barely catches himself from ending up sprawled on the wood floor. Sam swiftly wraps his arms around Harper’s waist, pulling her away from Dean before she could get another swing in. Harper struggles against him, but Sam’s grip only tightens, pulling her flush against him.

“Let go, Sam. I’m not done yet!” she protests. Dean stands up to his full height, staring at Harper with a surprised look as he rubs his jaw. 

“Just give me a second to find out what’s going on here!” Sam says, still holding onto her as he waits for any explanation. 

Harper doesn’t quit her struggle, but glaring at Dean, she replies, “He knows what he did. You son of a bitch!” 

Sam groans, turning his questioning look to Dean now. Dean squirms under their undivided attention, flicking back and forth between Harper’s scalding glare and Sam’s exasperated bitch-face, not being able to decide which is worse. Sam finally asks the burning question.

“What the fuck did you do, Dean?” 

* * *

_ Sixteen hours earlier _

 

Harper takes one last look at her sister, rumpled hair, puffy eyes, but finally asleep and breathing evenly. She softly closes Maisie’s bedroom door, before heading straight back down the stairs to grab her duffel bag she hadn’t bothered to put away. Before she can get to the front door, Piper is on her. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a couple days. I’m not going to get into trouble.” Harper tries to vaguely explain. Piper, however, is not convinced.

“Right. You remember the last time you told me that?” Piper crosses her arm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for Harper’s next excuse. Harper stares at the wall for a silent moment.

“Alright, that’s fair, but this time, I promise.  _ I  _ am not going to get into any trouble… Dean is, but not me,” Harper quickly finishes, a small smirk forming. Piper sighs, long and loud, passing a hand over her face, then steps out of the way. 

“I knew you’d understand, Red. Just don’t tell Maisie the last part about Dean.” Harper gives Piper a pat on the shoulder as she passes. 

“You really think this is a good idea?” Piper asks as Harper opens the door. Pausing, Harper looks over her shoulder and gives a slight shrug. 

“You and Maisie take care of each other while I’m gone.” And with a last, tight smile, Harper is out the door and bounding to her truck.

As she sets out on her sixteen hour drive to the bunker, Harper thinks about Maisie’s explanation and tears, those thoughts fueling her anger. Panic! At the Disco is the backdrop to her reckless driving. Her hope is that Brendon Urie’s voice would soothe her raging thoughts, but it only fueled them further. The one constant thought, throughout the long hours white-knuckling the steering wheel, is how much she is going to enjoy beating the shit out of Dean.

* * *

_ Now _

 

“Wait, wait, you drove sixteen hours just to punch Dean in the face?” Sam let Harper go, her explanation distracting her from her primary motive, and she can see the incredulity written on Sam’s face. 

“First of all, that’s not the point, and if you wouldn’t interrupt, you might know why,” Harper starts; Sam simply rolling his eyes. “But yes, I fucking did. No one hurts Maisie and escapes from my wrath,” she finishes with a dirty look in Dean’s direction. 

“How does Maisie fit into this, though?” Sam throws up his hands, annoyed with having no idea what’s going on, outside of Dean apparently having been a dick and Harper being dramatically bitter. None of which is much out of the ordinary.

* * *

_ Twenty-one hours earlier _

 

Harper waves the Winchesters off as they drive away from the Los Angeles motel; when the Impala is out of view, Harper glances around, searching for Maisie in the parking lot and finding her admiring the California valley. Or so it seems. 

“Why didn’t you say goodbye to the guys?” Harper asks, as she nears Maisie. Her eyes go wide when Maisie faces her, and she sees the tears, coming faster than Maisie can wipe them away. Harper grabs Maisie, who falls right into her sister's arms.

“What- what did Dean do?” Harper asks as soft as she can manage, but tension still laces her tone. She runs her hand up and down Maisie’s back comfortingly as Maisie tries to gain her breath.

“I- I don’t know what went wrong. We were flirting like always, then… He kissed me and it was perfect, we were perfect. But then he just pushed me away and said we couldn’t do this? He said he wanted me to be happy but he wouldn’t even explain, he just walked away,” Maisie finishes in a small voice. Harper’s emotions are in as much turmoil as Maisie now; the sadness over her sister crying in her arms, and the anger at Dean for causing the tears are fighting for dominance inside her.

“I just- I felt it, Harper. What I haven’t felt since... Since Tommy. And I can’t- why did he just walk away?” Maisie’s voice breaks as she utters the question she can’t shake from her mind. Harper’s arms tighten around Maisie, her own voice failing her. Hearing how uncertain Maisie is, and the fact that Maisie brought up Tommy Fitz is giving her sadness an upper hand; Maisie hadn’t spoken of the tragedy that was her first love in years. 

“Oh, Mais. Don’t you let that douchebag make you second guess yourself, this is all on him,” Harper finally finds her voice to give Maisie any peace of mind she can. Harper’s own peace of mind, however, is driving away from the reach of her fist as they speak. Harper adds to herself in an undertone, “And he better run.”

* * *

_ Now _

 

**“** Who’s Tommy?” Dean ask quietly. Harper slowly turns to look at Dean, narrowing her eyes him.

“What’s it to you? You’re the one who walked away and broke her heart,” Harper spits.

“You’re the one poorly explaining why you drove sixteen hours to punch me,” Dean shoots back coolly.

“Fuck you.” Harper and Dean stare each other down, the tension in the room palpable. Dean is the first to break, simply walking away, which only angers Harper more.

“Yeah, walk away again, your best move,” Harper says to his back, her hands curling into fists. Sam is by her side suddenly, grabbing her hands, ready to hold her back again.

“I’m fine, Sam, you can let me go,” Harper says, avoiding looking at Sam as she tries to keep her voice even.

Sam shakes his head. “You drove sixteen hours to punch Dean, you’re not fine!” He pauses, letting out a long sigh. “Harper, you need to figure out a way to deal with your anger without using your fist.” Harper looks taken back by his words. 

“How the fuck would I do that?”

“By talking about it,” Sam answers, releasing her hands finally. “How do you think Dean got himself into this mess? He doesn’t explain himself. At all.”

Harper lets out a heavy sigh as she glances to where Dean had disappeared. “Fuck…” she breathes out. “You’re right… I guess.” Her shoulders slump at her own admission, and she suddenly feels how tired she is. 

“Why don’t you stay and get some sleep?” Sam suggests. Before she answers, Dean strides back into the room holding a beer for each of them. Harper is suddenly on guard again, shaking her head as Dean tries to offer her one of the beers.

“Thanks, Sam, but I’m too angry to sleep with him here,” Harper finally answers. Sam sighs as Dean simply sets their beers on the table and gulps down his own.

“Okay, but please stop somewhere and sleep or at least call me if it’s too much?” 

“Yeah, okay, mom,” Harper scoffs, but gives Sam a small smile as she turns to go. Sam grabs her hand again and pulls her into a hug before she can get far. Harper lets herself melt into his arms only for a second, before breaking away, knowing if she lingered she would never leave.

* * *

_ Thirteen hours, plus a three hour phone call with Sam, later  _

 

“So, Dean just sat there and  _ let  _ you punch him!?” Maisie asks, after Harper finally finishes her account of her visit to the Winchesters. Harper takes a sip of her second cup of coffee since arriving back at the Safehouse.

“Well, he couldn’t resist this smile.” Harper lifts her head from the couch armrest and shows off a cheesy grin. Piper can’t help her laughter at Harper’s tired attempt at a winning smile, but Maisie shakes her head, still confused.

“You just smiled at him until he let you punch him!?” 

“No, no, no,” Harper groans. “It went like this...”

* * *

_ Sixteen hours and forty-five minutes earlier _

 

Harper slams the door of her truck, the noise startling her slightly in her combined state of deliriously tired and recklessly angry. Making it to the large, metal door of the bunker, she pounds on it until her knuckles hurt. Five minutes pass before she is met with a wide-eyed Sam, gun in hand. 

“Harp, what-” Sam starts to inquire about Harper’s sudden intrusion, but she only has her mission in mind.

“Where’s Dean?” Harper cuts to the chase, brushing past Sam and practically running down the stairs. “Dean!” she calls out, looking down all the hallways. In normal circumstances, she would have been awestruck by the place, but in her blind fury, all she could look for is Dean.

“What’s with all the goddamn racket?” Dean’s gruff voice comes down a hallway towards Harper. “What are you doing here, Harper? Come for a booty call?” He tiredly smirks. 

Harper puts on her biggest, and fakest, smile, sauntering right up to him. Then, in a flash, her smile drops, her eyes burn, and she cocks her fist back...


	14. Too Glam To Give A Damn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Run This Town by Lucy Hale
> 
> lol sorry if the extraness is too much, let us know if you need us to tone it down. -Hope
> 
> Also sorry if this chapter isn’t as beefy as the others (lol it says a lot that 3,000 is less than our usual amount); inspiration was lacking a bit, but we powered through for you guys :) -mara

* * *

 

Harper stares at herself in the dressing room mirror, picking at the black dress and groaning a bit. “Why does it have to be so tight?” she complains, calling out to Maisie and Piper who are waiting for her grand reveal. Harper opens the door, walking out with her arms crossed.

“It’s not tight, it’s form fitting,” Piper explains as she forces Harper to uncross her arms and give them a clear look. She nods her head resolutely at the way it fits Harper to a ‘T’.

“And it’s perfect for your form, babe.” Maisie grins, giving Harper a wink.

“Ugh, regret. Can we just forget I said anything about going out?” Harper practically begs, trying to pull off puppy dog eyes. Now it’s Maisie and Piper’s turn to cross their arms.

“No way, José! Girls’ night is a must-need ritual that we have forsaken for far too long,” Maisie says passionately.

“God, you’re so dramatic,” Harper says as she dramatically rolls her eyes.

“As _theatrical_ as she is, Mais is right, we need this.” Piper looks at Harper with her own version of puppy dog eyes until Harper finally sighs.

“Fine.” Harper trudges back into the fitting room and throws the dress out at Maisie and Piper a few seconds later. “But only if I can wear my leather jacket.”

“Deal,” Maisie and Piper agree simultaneously, before turning and giving each other a high-five.

* * *

With hair, makeup, and the perfect outfits completed, the girls are ready to hit the town. They confidently strut into Maisie and Piper’s favorite club, although Harper appears to be slightly uncomfortable by the environment. The club is dimly lit except for the dance floor, the neon spotlights illuminating the people swaying to the music provided by the DJ. Maisie and Piper drag Harper onto the dance floor, immediately falling into the rhythm of the music, but Harper takes a bit longer to relax and enjoy the movement and music.

A group of men start dancing with the girls after a few songs; when one of the men starts to get too close for an already uncomfortable Harper, she decides to take her leave and grab a drink from the bar. While awaiting her gin and tonic, another eager man approaches and takes his time looking Harper up and down before saying anything.

“Excuse me, I think I dropped something… My jaw.” The man attempts a sly grin. Harper simply gives him the side-eye, unsure of what to say, when the bartender returns with her drink and saves her from having to react.

“Here, babe. Don’t have too much fun until I get off in a few,” the bartender says a little louder than necessary, even in the din of the club. Harper gives him a quizzical look, and he flicks his eyes discreetly to the imposing man beside her. Understanding dawns on her, and she quickly nods her head.

“Oh, right, thanks… Babe,” Harper plays along, forcing a smile onto her face.

“Anything for you.” The bartender winks at her, really selling it; the man with the awful one-liners, groans in defeat and finally walks away. After she’s sure the man is gone, she slides the bartender the money for her drink, but he stops it and slides it back.

“On the house, you look like you could use it.” He smiles sympathetically. Harper returns his smile, though slightly guarded.

“Thanks, uh…” She trails off, not wanting to revert to calling him babe now that the charade was over.

“Camden,” he supplies.

“Well, thanks, Camden,” Harper says before leaving the money and making a hasty retreat to the bathroom. All this awkward interaction is getting to be much for one night, and there is one person she knew that could talk her down. Sam.

Maisie, on the other hand, is taking the attention in stride, happy for the distraction. She latches on to the first guy, leaning into him and moving her hips in all the right ways. After a few songs with personal boundaries blurred, the man leads her away from the dance floor and moves in for more action. But as his lips touch hers, all she can think of is Dean. How perfect they were together, until he walked away. She suddenly pushes away, leaving the random stranger behind and confused.

Maisie makes her way to the bar, immediately ordering a succession of tequila shots. As she starts on her second round, Harper spots her on her way back from the bathroom, feeling downcast and perturbed after only receiving Sam’s voicemail.

“Whoa there, Mais.” She tries to caution, but Maisie just gives her a determined look that says “I’m out of fucks to give.”

“Carry on,” Harper concedes with a dark chuckle, as she glances around the room looking for Piper.

Under the bright spotlights, a dark-skinned beauty makes her way through the crowd, intent on Piper. She sidles up to Piper, dancing closely and capturing Piper’s curiosity throughout the next few songs. The woman grabs Piper’s hand and pulls her off the dance floor to a nearby table, smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“You looked like you could use a break, so I thought we could sit and talk for a bit,” the woman says, out of breath from dancing.

“Talking is all you had in mind?” Piper asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Depends on where the conversation takes us.” The woman smiles back flirtatiously. “So, are you a local or tourist?”

“Local, this is my favorite club actually,” Piper responds.

“I can see why.” The woman glances around the room before her beautiful brown eyes land back on Piper. “So, you’ve got a place around here?” Piper nods with a smile. “Want to get out of here?” The woman suggests as she pushes her long black hair out of her face.

“I don’t even know your name, yet,” Piper responds sheepishly.

“Nina. Nina VonVamp,” she whispers into Piper’s ear. The grin quickly slips from Piper’s face. Before she can react any further, Nina’s grip on her is like steel, and Piper’s struggle is pointless as Nina subtly drags her from the club.

“Where are you taking me?” Piper continues to try to pull away as they walk outside into the cool, night air.

“Actually, you’re taking me somewhere,” Nina says, throwing a smile over her shoulder. “The Raven sister’s house.”

“Why the hell do you want to go there?” Piper gives her an incredulous look as they reach a grey sedan behind the club away from any onlookers. Ignoring Piper’s question, Nina unlocks the car and pushes Piper into the backseat before pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Piper quickly slides away, attempting to push open the other door, but the door doesn’t budge.

“Fuck you, childlock,” Piper groans as she pushes angrily against the locked door.

Nina smirks and grabs onto Piper’s arm, handcuffing her to the handle on the ceiling of the car. As she slams the passenger door, the back entrance to the club swings open with a loud creak, causing Nina to quickly turn toward the sound.

Camden, the bartender, struts out toward Nina. “I’ll keep an eye on the girls and give you a warning when they leave.”

Nina starts making her way around the car to the driver’s side. “Keep them here as long as you can without using physical force; we can’t risk losing any more of us in this city right now.” Camden nods before heading back inside.

Nina hops in the car, but before driving off, she turns around, holding her hand out to Piper. “Give me your phone.” Piper reluctantly gives it to her, a deep frown on her face. “All right, now where are we going?” Turning back around, Nina plops the phone into the cup holder next to her, out of reach for Piper, whose thoughts are frantically trying to route an escape.

As much as Piper doesn’t want to give up the location to the Safehouse, she knows the right tools to get out of this situation could be easily accessed there. Her only option is to give up the Safehouse, find a weapon, and hope Harper and Maisie will find her soon. With a heavy sigh, Piper points Nina in the right direction, and Nina follows her instructions with a triumphant smirk.

“I’m giving you what you want, you could at least tell me what you want from us. You already killed my fiancé,” Piper tries to reason, adding the last part in an undertone.

Nina glances at her in the rearview mirror, noting the emotions stirring behind Piper’s stern expression, before looking back to the road. It’s quiet for a moment, until Piper gives out her next instruction.

“Just here to get some information,” Nina finally answers. At her vague response, Piper glares at the back of Nina’s head.

“Why the hell would you need information about us? Aren’t you just a mindless monster bent on killing?” Piper seethes; her anger and curiosity make it easier to talk and push for the answer she wants. Hopefully, she can get them.

Nina doesn’t respond though, staying silent with a smirk and only acknowledging Piper when she gives directions. Eventually, they arrive at the Safehouse. Nina lets Piper out of the backseat, handcuffing her again as soon as Piper’s feet touch the rubble of the driveway. Nina keeps her hand wrapped around Piper’s upper arm as they walk to the front door; once through the door, Neptune stands tall, growling at the intruder in his home.

“Lock the dogs away, I’d rather not kill them,” Nina says, shoving Piper toward the white German Shepherd. As Piper ushers Neptune into the guest room, Gandalf trots down the stairs, taking his turn to briefly bark at Nina before Piper manages to push him into the guest room as well. Nina strides into the living room as soon as the door closes, leaving Piper and Nina alone once again; she glances around the room, taking in the layout.

Nina grabs Piper’s arm once again, pushing her toward the couch. “Sit, and don’t move,” Nina commands, and Piper unhappily complies. Nina struts around the living room and kitchen, glancing at pictures of the girls and snooping through drawers. All the while, Piper’s mind is reeling for a way to fight back, or at least contact the girls and get out of this mess.

* * *

Back at the club, the Raven sisters are feeling the failure of their attempt at a good time. The tequila shots only seem to have heightened Maisie’s forlorn mood, and yet another unanswered call to Sam, after over a month of not speaking to him, has Harper even more on edge.

“Why did we think this was a good idea? I think this is the worst idea we’ve come up with,” Harper finally divulges. Maisie exaggeratedly rolls her eyes, shaking her finger in Harper’s face. Harper crosses her arms, ready for Maisie’s protest.

“No! Your punk rock band was the worst idea we ever had. Horrible for my managing career...” Maisie slurs as she tries to yell over the din of the club.

“Hey! I still stand by _Assholes with Feelings_ , we had potential, okay,” Harper heatedly defends. Maisie can’t help laughing, the alcohol in her veins only aiding her outburst. When Maisie’s laughter doesn’t die down, and she starts swaying, Harper decides it’s time to call it a night. Getting up, Harper links Maisie’s arm over her shoulder, her own arm going around Maisie’s waist. She sets a few more bills on the counter for the bartender, but before they can get away, he grabs onto Harper’s hand.

“Can’t I convince you to stick around a little longer? I didn’t even get your name.” Camden gives her an earnest smile. Harper shakes her head slightly, giving him a somewhat apologetic smile, or grimace, depending how you look at it.

“Sorry, I’ve got to get my sister home, she’s had one too many.”

Maisie’s laughter subsides long enough for her to give her input. “That secret code for, ‘sorry, I’m in hopeless love for Sam,’” Maisie immediately starts to giggle again. Harper’s face clearly turns to a grimace now.

“Okay, we’re going now, sorry, bye,” Harper quickly gushes before dragging Maisie to the door. Once they’ve stumbled into the fresh night air, Harper suddenly remembers Piper.

“Damn, where did Red go.” Harper looks from side to side, wondering if she made it out and was possibly waiting for them; she hadn’t remembered seeing Piper for a while.

“Little Red, with tall, dark, and gorgeous,” Maisie grins, giving a confused Harper a nudge in the side. The meaning of Maisie’s incomplete sentence dawns on Harper; however, just to be safe, Harper fishes her phone out of her pocket to send Piper a text.

_Didn’t see you leave the club… You good?_

Shoving her phone back in her pocket, Harper trudges under Maisie’s weight as they make their way back to the car. She opens the passenger door to Maisie’s mustang, practically shoving Maisie into the seat, before making her way to the driver’s side. Always on the cautionary side, Harper opens up the convertible roof for Maisie’s sake, before starting the car. As she prepares to pull out of the parking lot, her phone chimes with a text alert.

              _Found a ride home with a friend ;))_

Satisfied with this response, Harper allows a small laugh before pulling onto the road to head home.

* * *

Nina closes the door to the last room on the first floor after yet another dead end. The only thing useful she could find on this floor was potential weak spots in the form of photos of the sisters’ and their associates, including an obnoxiously large photo of a young Harper with a large, shaggy-haired male that she recognized as a young Sam Winchester. Before heading upstairs, Nina moves Piper to the stairs, handcuffing her to the banister.

“This would be a lot more fun if you’d play along,” Nina purrs, batting her eyelashes at Piper.

“I’m not going to play whatever sick game you’re at. As a human, I have a little something called integrity,” Piper objected stiffly.

“I wonder how well that defiance of yours would work for you with my teeth in your throat.” Nina smiles sharply. Her heartbeat quickening, Piper swallows thickly as her eyes drop to the floor in defeat.

“No matter, I’ll dig up any dirty little secrets your precious _sisters_ have,” Nina jeers over her shoulder as she struts up the stairs. She starts opening and closing doors, trying to find one of the girls’ bedroom, and finally stumbles upon Maisie’s. Nina looks through the vast music collection and scattered books throughout the room, eventually discovering a journal on the bedside table. Leafing through the small notebook, Nina decides to take it, hoping the information inside will be helpful. She continues her search, looking in the closet and under the mattress, where she finds another journal tucked away from prying eyes. As Nina is about to glance through this second, hidden notebook, she hears the front door opening up and heads to the stairs.

Carrying most of Maisie’s weight, Harper stumbles through the front door, her arm wrapped around her sister’s waist again. The first thing to greet her is the sight of Piper, handcuffed and slumped against the stairwell banister. In a less than graceful movement, Harper drops Maisie onto the living room floor and grabs for the gun concealed in the hidden holster inside of her leather jacket. Ignoring Maisie’s faint groans, Harper slowly makes her way to Piper, gun held high. As she nears the bottom steps, Nina dramatically appears at the top of the staircase, journals in one hand, and the other resting on her hip.

“Welcome home,” Nina says with a deviant smirk.

“Thanks, can’t say you’re as welcome, though,” Harper retorts without missing a beat.

“You’re right, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome, I’ll see myself out.” Nina starts down the stairs, and Harper cocks her gun. Nina, however, is unperturbed and doesn’t stall until she is standing behind Piper.

“On second thought, I think Piper will do the honors of showing me out.”

“You so much as touch a strand of her hair, and I will blow your goddamn brains out,” Harper threatens through clenched teeth.

“Oh, honey, I could rip her throat out before even one of your harmless little bullets could tickle me,” Nina scoffs lightly.

“Deadman’s blood bullets. You want to take that bet?” Harper puts on her best poker face, willing Nina not to see through her bluff, but Nina doesn't retreat. She gives Harper an almost pitying look, before grabbing Piper by the hair and pulling her to her feet. Nina leans in close, her nose caressing Piper’s neck as she inhales deeply; she, then, turns to smile at Harper, displaying her fangs. Harper tries to hold her ground, but seeing the terrified look on Piper’s face, she finally backs down and drops her gun.

“Now there’s a good girl.” Nina releases her hold on Piper’s hair, letting her drop back down onto the stairs, shaking.

“Just get the hell out,” Harper growls, her hands curled into tight fists at her side.

“Anything you say, Raven. I’ll give your regards to Ben…”

“Who the fuck is Ben!?” Harper confusedly shouts.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Nina laughs darkly. Continuing to take her time exiting the house, she stops briefly in front of the aforementioned, obnoxiously large photo of Harper and Sam. “Nice picture. What’s it like being a Winchester’s bitch?” Nina takes one last look at Harper’s sputtering face, before slamming the door behind her, the sound ringing in the girls’ ears.

* * *

After sleeping off the night’s strange turn of events, the girls begrudgingly wake up to the afternoon sun, eventually convening in the kitchen for a late brunch. Over coffee and an assortment of brunch foods, Harper and Piper take turns filling Maisie in on what she missed in her drunken state.

“So, some vamp-associated creep, named Ben, is trying to dig up information on us?” Maisie queries once Harper and Piper finish their account. Exchanging glances, Piper simply shrugs, staying as quiet as possible, while Harper responds.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

Resting her head on her hands, Maisie groans out exasperatedly, “I’m too hungover for this, why can’t we just have one good night out!?” At Maisie’s distressed tone, Gandalf trots over to her and rests a paw on her leg; Maisie manages a tired smile as she runs her fingers over his fur. Not wanting to feel left out, Neptune follows suit and earns a head scratch from Maisie as well.

“I don’t know, Mais, but this isn’t over. We need to figure out what she found, and most importantly, who the fuck Ben is.” Harper says, just as her phone rings, a picture of Cas in his Christmas onesie popping up. “Hey, what’s the word, Cas?” Maisie and Piper perk up at hearing his name.

“It’s a shorten- nevermind, there’s something very urgent I need to speak with you about.” Cas replies tursley.

“Is everything okay, Cas?” Harper asks, taking a deep breath as she can feel her anxiety rearing its ugly head.

“The Winchesters have been imprisoned.”


	15. My Friends And I, We Got A Lot Of Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Stay by Mayday Parade / Polarize by twenty one pilots
> 
> so here’s our twist on season 12, ep. 9 (First Blood)! Hope you guys enjoy! (also harper and sam are the cutest, im #1 sam/harper trash, no regrets) -mara
> 
> Raise your hand if you kind of want Harper to punch Dean again, but you also really want Dean and Maisie to kiss again; guess you’ll have read and find out how it goes! -Hope

* * *

“ What the fuck, Cas? Why didn’t you call us sooner?!” Harper fumes as soon as Cas has the door open wide enough for them to enter the bunker. 

“Harp, come on, look at how exhausted he is, you don’t think he’s dealing with enough!?”  Maisie intercedes, brushing passed Harper and pulling Cas into a hug. She can feel him letting go as he melts into her embrace. Pulling away, Maisie gives Cas a sympathetic look and a soft pat on the cheek before heading down the stairs. 

“You are right, though, Harper. I’m sorry. I wanted to believe I could find them, that I could help them, that I could be useful at all, without having to worry you. But I was a fool,” Cas concedes dolefully as he and Harper follow after Maisie. Harper runs a hand down her face and sighs.

“Ugh, now I feel like a jerk. You’re not a fool, Cas, I’m just worried. But we’re here now, we  _ are  _ going to find them. We have to,” Harper tries to console Cas, while trying to reassure her own doubts. Cas simply nods his head thoughtfully, not wanting to have to argue the point with Harper. 

“Where is Piper?” Cas suddenly thinks to ask. 

“We packed her and the dogs up, and sent them to California to stay with our mom. We had an unexpected visitor the night before you called, so we didn’t want her at the not-so-Safehouse alone,” Harper explains, but when Cas’ expression turns quizzical, she waves him off, saying they can worry about it when the boys are back.

“So, what do we know about who took our- uh, the boys?” Maisie asks once they all reconvene in the war room. 

“As far as I can tell, it must be some secret government unit. We were dealing with the President of the United States, after all,” Cas replies glumly at his lack of knowledge. 

“Have you tried a location spell?” Harper pipes up. Cas’ eyebrows draw together in consternation, before shaking his head vigorously.

“No, I cannot believe I didn’t think of that,” Cas fumes, clearly berating himself internally.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Show me the way to the library,” Harper urges, and Cas wastes no time complying, rushing from the room with Harper in tow. Maisie stays behind, deciding to retrieve her laptop and see if she hack her way into any helpful information. She doesn’t get much farther than pulling up the web browser, however, when Cas’ phone starts to ring. Without thinking, she grabs it and answers.

“Hiya, Castiel’s phone,” Maisie chirps absentmindedly, starting to type into the browser.

“Hey, Maisie? Long time.” Maisie recognizes Dean’s voice immediately. With so many emotions surge through her veins, she momentarily loses control of her senses, and the phone slips from her grasp onto the table. 

“Hello? Maisie!” Dean’s urgent voice cuts through Maisie’s haze; she quickly grabs the phone again.

“Where are you!?” Maisie demands. 

“You wouldn’t believe me, and I have no clue,” Dean starts, before Sam’s voice cuts in, seeming to be noting landmarks. “Okay, looks like we’re in Colorado, in Rocky Mountain National Park,” Dean adds after Sam’s comments.

“If we head north, we should hit State Route thirty-four... eventually.” Sam’s voice comes through the receiver again.

“Did you get that, Mais?” Dean asks. Maisie feels a prick of heartache at Dean’s casual use of her nickname, but quickly pushes it aside as she replies thickly with a “yes.”

“Alright, meet us there.”

“Wait, where!?” Maisie rushes to ask before he can hang up.

“Just drive along the road and you’ll see us. And, Maisie, the sooner the better, we’re kind of on the clock here,” Dean vaguely answers before the line goes dead, leaving Maisie even more conflicted than before. She knows now is not the time to sort through the feelings of Dean Winchester, though; quickly pushing back from the table, she runs to find Harper and Cas.

“Cas! Harper! Dean just called, hurry!” Maisie yells out as she skids into the library.

“Whoa, whoa, what happened?” Harper beseeches.

“Dean! He just called! I don’t know how they got out, but he said they’re in the Rocky Mountain National Park, in Colorado. We have to go now!” Maisie exclaims, looking at them with wild eyes. The room is basked in a sudden silence, as Harper and Cas exchange dumbfounded glances for a split second before the gears start clicking, and they all scramble from the room.

* * *

As Cas pulls up next to a blue Dodge Charger, the sisters give each other questioning looks before Harper speaks up. “Cas, what are we doing here? We don’t have time for a pit stop.” Cas only replies with a vague ‘you’ll see’, before climbing out of the car and beckoning the girls to follow. They climb out after Cas as he greets a middle aged woman with shoulder-length, blonde hair. When the woman turns to the girls, Harper has a sudden stirring of a memory that makes the woman seem familiar.

“Mary, this is Harper and Maisie Raven, they're close friends and colleagues of Sam and Dean. And Myself,” Cas introduces the girls, a soft smile in their direction, before adding, “Girls, this is Mary... Mary Winchester.” Harper’s face scrunches up in blatant confusion and disbelief. 

“Sam’s dead mom, Mary Winchester!?” Harper’s tone rises in incredulity with each word. 

“Damn, um, welcome back?” Maisie tries for a smile that mostly comes off as nervous.

“It’s always nice to meet  _ close _ friends of my boys.” Mary gives a slightly strained but graceful smile. Then, turning back to Castiel, she adds, “Are we ready to go? What do we think we are walking into?”

Cas shrugs. “I don’t know. We may want more backup,” he says, glancing at the girls. “I’ll make a call on the way.”

“We’ll follow you in the truck,” Harper offers, gesturing toward her truck. Mary nods, walking toward her dark blue Dodge Charger with Cas following suit. Harper and Maisie head back to the truck, and begin following Mary’s car out of the parking lot.

* * *

The two vehicles eventually come to a stop on Route 34, everyone piling out and coming face-to-face with the British Men of Letters, waiting. “ _ This _ was your idea?” Mary questions with a twinge of anger in her voice at the sight of Mick and Ketch. “The people that tried to kill my boys,  _ they’re  _ going to be our backup? Suddenly, the demon and his mommy don’t look so bad,” Mary adds with a face shrug. Harper and Maisie side eye the two men, suddenly not too keen on their presence. 

“They helped us with Lucifer.” Cas slightly defends them. Harper couldn’t decide if she should be sizing them up for a fight, or thanking them for helping the boys with Lucifer.

“Lucifer?  _ The  _ Lucifer?” Mick says, sounding a tad surprised.

“Yes,” Cas responds dryly.

“Wait, so you’re telling me what happened in Indianapolis was you took on the bleedin’ devil himself?” Mick implores, looking between Cas and Mary.

“Yeah, without us,” Harper mumbles bitterly under her breath; Maisie elbows her, trying to be discreet. 

“Did you win?” Ketch asks, ignore Harper’s comment.

“Yes,” Cas answers once again.

Mick and Ketch share a look before Ketch nods to Cas. “Bravo.”

“But,” Mary interrupts. “Sam and Dean were taken.”

“Wouldn’t have happened if we were there to save their dumb asses, like usual,” Harper grumbles, earning another swift elbow to the gut from Maisie.

“We think we can get them back,” Mary continues as if Harper hadn’t said a word. “But we need… help.”

“So, we’ll help,” Mick replies matter-of-factly. 

“Really?” Mary sounds unsure. “Just like that?”

Mick takes a step toward her, causing Cas to squint between Mick and Mary. “Mrs. Winchester -- Mary… I came to this country to do one things. Make friends. But you American hunters, you’re… a different breed than our sort. You’re surly, suspicious. You don’t play well with others.”

“Well, that’s accurate…” Cas agrees, sharing a look with Mary, and Maisie. Harper folds her arms over her chest, refusing to agree with the two British men yet. 

“You don’t trust people you don’t know, even when they come bearing gifts. Now I can’t help that, but I can help you.” Mary looks reluctant as Mick continues. “And if word did get out that we did our part to save Sam and Dean Winchester, well, that’s just good business, innit? And who knows,” he adds, looking at Cas and the girls. “When all this is over, we might even be friends.”

Mary glances back to Maisie, gesturing her to speak up now; Maisie steps up beside Cas. “Dean said they were being held somewhere in the Rocky Mountain National Forest.” His name is hard to get out over and over again after the last time Dean and Maisie had seen one another.

“Site Ninety-Four?” Ketch asks, stepping forward to stand next to Mick. “It’s a government facility. Off-books. Shadow ops. One of those places that officially doesn’t exist,” he adds, making eye contact with the hunters and their angel.

“Then how do you know about it?” Mary questions Ketch, arms folded over her chest, but Mick is the one to respond. 

“We gather information, it’s our job.”

“They told us to meet them off State Route Thirty-four,” Cas interrupts, looking at Maisie, who nods in confirmation.

“Well, that’s a long stretch of road. Where, exactly?” Ketch glares down Cas.

“They weren’t specific,” Maisie says, drawing Ketch’s attention away from the angel.

“I’ll get our techs to put a satellite over the area,” Mick turns to Ketch.

“You can do that?” Mary asks, a hint of hope in her tone.

Mick nods subtly. “And so much more.” At that, the British Men of Letters turn back toward their car, as do the hunters, but Ketch grabs Maisie’s attention before getting too far.

“Do you have any idea what sort of trouble we’re walking into?” he asks her. 

“Nope,” Maise replies, examining him for a moment.

“Oh, good. I do like a surprise.” Ketch gives Maisie a little smile before heading to his car with Mick. Maisie gives Harper a confused look, mumbling a comment about Ketch’s high creep factor.

* * *

After receiving the information needed from the satellite and arriving where the Winchester will emerge, the hunters and their angel wait under the canopy of the tall trees and the night sky, emotions running high after more than a month without contact. Her hands in fists, Harper paces anxiously in front of Maisie, who is busy picking at her already chipping, white nail polish, wondering what it will be like to see Dean again. She’s worried about Dean, although a piece of her wishes she wasn’t because it would make seeing him again easier in a way.

Harper keeps wringing out her fists, trying to distract herself from her anxiety; it isn’t helping, though. Her thoughts remain focused on Sam. She needs to see him and talk to him; it’s been too long. 

The brush of the forest rustles behind Cas, as Sam and Dean finally emerge. “Sam, Dean!” Everyone turns at the sound, and Harper immediately heads toward Sam, practically running those few steps and pushing Cas out of the way.

“Harper!” Sam breathes out. Opening his arms to her, Harper crashes into his embrace, relaxing into him. “God, it’s good to see you,” he says, placing a quick kiss to the top of Harper’s head. Her only response to the gesture is to further tighten her arms around him.

“Don’t fucking do this again,” she mumbles into his chest.

“I won’t, I swear.” Sam holds Harper for another second before releasing her, to finally hug the others. 

“Cas,” Dean says, relief palpable, as he reaches Cas, giving him a hug. While Sam hugs Mary, Dean glimpses Maisie over Cas’ shoulder, standing alone a little ways off from the group. Although she looks uncertain and won’t meet his eyes, he can’t help but think, she still looks as irresistible as he remembers, which is immediately followed by a sweeping sadness that he can’t have her. He lets Cas go and almost goes to Maisie, but Mary appears, pulling him into her arms, while Maisie is going to hug Sam. Incidentally, Maisie and Dean are forced to face each other as they turn from Mary and Sam’s embraces. 

“Hey,” Dean starts lamely. Maisie opens and closes her mouth several times before she can get anything out.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she finally manages to reply with sincerity, though she has to force a smile, for his sake. He nods gratefully, hesitating slightly before he decides he can’t hold himself back from her this one last time. He starts to step forward, ready to grab her and kiss the hell out of her.

“Hey, Dean!” Harper suddenly interrupts, a little too enthusiastic to be normal for her. Dean takes a subtle step back, clenching his jaw.

“Hey, HR. Not gonna punch me again, are you?” He asks, looking a little sheepish. But Harper just shakes her head with a smile on her face. 

“I’m good now,” Harper replies, looking at Sam like he held the moon.

Meanwhile, Mary looks confusedly to Cas, hoping he has any kind of clarification. 

“He had it coming,” Cas offers simply.

* * *

After their business with the British Men of the Letters concluded, the two vehicles start toward the Safehouse, Harper insisting Sam ride with her and Maisie. 

“So, thanks for not being dead. I don’t think Harper could survive another separation,” Maisie says to Sam’s reflection in the rearview mirror from her chauffeur position. 

“Maisie, play it cool,” Harper whispers warningly, flicking her eyes to Sam then out the window. Sam gives Maisie a knowing smile, discreetly reaching across the seat to squeeze Harper’s hand. Harper visibly relaxes and returns the gesture. 

“I hope our debacle didn’t get in the way of girls’ night,” Sam remarks. But looking between Harper and Maisie, his expression falls at the uncomfortable looks on their faces. Sam starts to feel uncomfortable, as well, the longer their silence stretches on. “What? What happened?” Sam queries.

“All you, Harp. It was your idea after all,” Maisie quips with a sarcastic smirk. Harper rolls her eyes, mumbling an equally sarcastic ‘thanks’, before begrudgingly complying. 

“It’s fine, Piper was just kidnapped, Nina VonVamp broke into the Safehouse, and some dude named Ben is trying to stalk us or something. Probably not gonna have a girls’ night again anytime soon, but it was a time to remember,” Harper rushes out in a single breath, her sarcasm seeming to escalate as she went on. 

“Is Piper okay?” Sam glances between the two sisters, concern shining in his eyes.

“She's fine now, we sent her and the dogs to Momma Q’s so we could come out here and save your ass,” Harper replies, watching the trees roll by. 

“And how are you two dealing with it?” Sam asks gently, attracting Harper’s gaze away from the scenery.

Maisie simply shrugs.

“Just fine,” Harper insists, keeping her emotions hidden away now as the relief of having Sam back begins to lose its hold on her. “Maisie and I will figure it out,” she adds, trying to wave it off as if it isn't a big deal. 

“Dean and I would happy to help out,” Sam offers with a small smile; Harper returns it, feeling grateful for the Winchesters. Their attention shifts to the road as Maisie slams on the brake to avoid Mary’s unmoving car, before the truck suddenly shuts down of its own accord. 

“What is this!?” Maisie demands of no one in particular. Sam’s hand slips from Harper's grasp; he gives her a heavy look that makes her blood run cold, before exiting the truck. Harper scrambles after Sam, her heart racing, with Maisie following suit, although much more hesitant. Sam ignores Harper calling his name as he nears the Charger, the brothers exchanging a subtle nod. 

“What’s happening?” Mary emerges from her car and voices the question on everyone else’s mind, before a new voice grabs their attention.

“Yeah, Dean. ‘Sup?” All of a sudden, a dark skinned woman, with long, black curls and a brown leather jacket, stands in the middle of the road a few feet from Mary’s Charger. Harper stops in her tracks, taken aback by the woman’s abrupt appearance. She looks to Maisie, trying to find an answer there, but only finds her own confusion mirrored back. 

“Billie?” Mary directs to the woman. 

“The reaper?” Cas queries from behind Mary. Having the question answered of  _ who _ the woman is, only causes more confusion for the girls. 

“Why are you guys on a first name basis with a reaper?” Maisie asks, looking to each of the Winchesters in turn. But Harper only has eyes for Sam, who won’t look at her when she voices her own concern. 

“Why the hell is a reaper  _ here _ ?”

“That place…” Dean steps forward, taking it on himself to explain. “There’s only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn’t breathing. So, I made a call.”

“Dean talked with her, and then Billie came to see me,” Sam cuts in. “And we made a deal. We’d get to die, and come back one more time. But in exchange...” Sam’s voice trails off, not wanting to voice their inevitable reality.

“Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye,” Billie finishes. “Like, permanently. And that is something I’ve been looking forward to for a  _ long  _ time.” A long pause fills the air as everyone digests the information they had heard. It doesn’t stay silent for long as the gears click into place.

“You fucking didn’t,” Maisie grumbles indignantly, though the heartbreak is clear in her voice. Harper, however, directs her indignation at BIllie.

“You bitch!” Harper exclaims, lunging towards Billie. Sam quickly catches onto her and holds her back. 

“Why would you--” Mary starts to ask, but Dean interrupts.

“We were already dead.” Dean looks at the ground, refusing to make eye contact. “Being locked in that cell with nothing… I’ve been to Hell, this was worse.”

“At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting,” Sam tries to reason with everyone, but mostly Harper, who stops struggling only to turn and glare at Sam.  

“You don’t have to do this,” Cas speaks up finally, anger clear in his tone.

“Yeah, they do,” Billie replies firmly. “We made a pact, bound in blood. You break that, there’s consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who’s it gonna be?”

Sam sighs, staring at the ground before dragging his eyes up to meet Dean’s; both brothers hesitate at the question, neither wanting to die in the presence of those they love. Sam finally meets Harper’s gaze, and he silently pleads for her forgiveness. Mary notes their silence and the distressed faces all around her. Turning around to face Billie and pulling out her gun from its holster, Mary responds. 

“Me.”

Sam and Dean begin to protest, reaching for their mother, but Billie throws out her hand, an invisible force sending both boys to the ground a few feet away quickly followed by the sisters.

“You said come midnight, a Winchester dies? I’m a Winchester,” Mary states, staring down Billie.

“Works for me,” Billie says with a smirk. Mary cocks her gun, raising it to the side of her head. Recovering from the fall, the Winchesters wholeheartedly object once again, begging for their mother not to follow through. 

Mary sniffles, trying to hold back her turbulent emotions as she readies herself to pull the trigger. “I love you.” 

Suddenly, Billie cries out, a mix of surprise and pain as a blinding light begins to emanate from her chest. She falls to the ground as the light fades, revealing Cas standing tall behind Billie, an angel’s blade in his hand. The four fallen hunters slowly rise, looking between Cas and Billie’s corpse.

“Cas, what have you done?” Dean asks, his reaction a mix of disbelief and horror.

“What had to be done,” Cas answers. “You know, this world… this sad, doomed little world, it needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get, and I will not let you die. I won’t let  _ any  _ of you die. And I won’t let you sacrifice yourselves.” Cas’ tone slowly becomes angrier as the words flow out of him. “You mean too much to me, to everything.” 

A brief silence falls over everyone before Cas continues his berating. 

“Yeah, you made a deal. You made a  _ stupid  _ deal, and I broke it.” Irritatedly, Cas adds, “You’re welcome.”

Harper simultaneously smacks the backs of the Winchester brothers’ heads. “Didn’t your momma raise you to say ‘thank you’ when someone saves your lives?!” She immediately realizes what she’s said, as do the others. 

Sam gives her a look of disbelief while Dean’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. Mary offers Harper an awkward smile, trying to brush off the comment. Maisie drops her head and lets out a sigh, before gesturing Harper to walk across the circle toward her and Cas. Harper mutters a nervous ‘sorry’ as she walks over to her sister, head hanging a little lower. 

“We should head out,” Sam says, trying to shift the awkward tension in the air. Everyone starts moving, but Harper hangs back, regaining her composure. “It’s all right, Harp. We know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

Harper frowns at Sam. “I meant what I said about saying thank you though. Cas did the right thing. He saved your dumbasses.” She crosses her arms. “How could you?” Her tone is angry and a bit hurt.

Sam looks away from her. “We couldn’t stay there any longer... If it’s any consolation, Dean and I didn’t want that, we didn’t want to die.” 

Harper doesn’t respond. Instead, she starts heading toward her truck, a troubled silence hanging between them. She lets out a heavy sigh as she reaches the driver’s door, turning back to Sam. “Still coming to hang out at the Safehouse? We’ve, uh… missed… you guys. Sorta, I mean.”

Sam nods and gives her a little smile. “We missed you, too.” Harper hesitates a minute. Sam takes the opportunity to pull her into another hug, trying to convey how much he really did miss her, and Harper felt it. She knew she couldn't take any more chances of losing Sam. Yet, she couldn't let him off the hook too easy, but she plans on keeping him around long enough for him to make up for it, and then some. 


	16. She's Something Else (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Burn The Night Away by There For Tomorrow
> 
> definitely don’t imagine Sam and Harper seeing the notebook together when it first came out after reading this part ;P also this is referring to the picture mentioned back in chapter 7, if you don’t remember -mara
> 
> Really sorry we make everything angsty :/ but hey, you get some sassy Maisie! -Hope

* * *

 

Harper and Maisie push through the front door of the Safehouse, noting the mess from their Nina break-in. Harper lets out a heavy sigh at the sight and begins to pick up the living room to make it somewhat presentable to the Winchesters, who should be here any minute. It was a long drive from Colorado, and the boys probably want to relax after being imprisoned for over a month. Maisie walks around the house, investigating things that seem out of place as she tries to deduce what Nina had taken.

It isn’t long though before Sam walks inside, finding Harper and Maisie cleaning up. He glances around the room briefly, but something catches his attention. He does a double take at the way-too-large picture of Sam and Harper from their college days, hanging proudly on the living room wall.

Across the living room, Harper drops a blanket onto the back of the couch before noticing the way Sam stares at the photo, his expression scrunched in confusion. Panicking, Harper grabs the nearest object, which happens to be the lamp from the side table, and launches it at the picture. The lamp nearly hits Sam, as it shatters the glass and knocks the photo off the wall.

Sam covers his face with his arms as the glass flies. “What the hell, Harper?” he asks, dropping his arms to his sides as he turns toward her.

Harper tries to come up with a plausible excuse, but unfortunately nothing sounds right when trying to explain why one would throw a lamp across the room to smash a photo. “Um, there was a spider?” Harper replies, a guilty expression on her face.

In the kitchen, Maisie bursts into laughter, having been waiting for something like this to happen; Sam, on the other hand, crosses his arms and rolls his eyes at Harper. Dean walks through the front door at this moment, confusion settling on his features. “What the…” Dean’s voice trails off as he gazes at the odd scene. Harper avoids eye contact with everyone, looking guilty, as Sam stares her down, standing among shards of glass, and Maisie bends over with laughter in the other room.

“I’ll get the broom…” Harper mumbles, walking away, but Sam follows suit.

“So, why did you throw a lamp at me?” Sam asks, a smirk on his face. Dean throws them another confused look, sitting down on the couch to watch this play out.   

Harper’s face turns red. “I didn’t throw-- It was… the photo.” Sam shakes his head as Harper pulls out the broom.

“What’s wrong with the photo?”

Harper quickly turns to him, finally making eye contact. “It’s _fucking_ huge, that’s what wrong with it.” Sam follows her back, and watches as Harper sweeps up her mess, holding the dust pan. He glances up at the photo, acknowledging it with a face shrug.

“Yeah, it’s kind of large.” He grins at Harper. “Good photo of us, though.” She holds out her hand, and Sam hands her the dust pan. “You hold it, and I’ll sweep it in,” Sam offers. “So, what’s the story?”

“Maisie and Piper thought it would funny after they found the original picture in my room, sometimes they’re the worst,” Harper throws a glare at Maisie, who grins back mischievously.

“Love you, too, sis!”

“It’s kinda funny,” Sam says, as Harper throws out the glass.

Harper groans. “No, it’s not… Ugh.” She starts stomping up the stairs dramatically.

“Going up to the reading nook?” Sam stops at the bottom of the steps, watching her ascend.

“Yep,” Harper replies shortly and disappears from view.

Sam lets out a small laugh, heading to the refrigerator for a drink. Maisie notices the way his face is lit up and smiles to herself. “She’s something else, isn’t she?” Maisie asks Sam, who takes a sip from his water bottle, a faraway look in his eyes.

* * *

**_Stanford: Summer of 2004_  **

 

_“How in hell was that supposed to be a bowling ball?” Harper laughs incredulously, looking from Sam to the rest of the laughing faces of their friends._

_“Well, I don’t know! How in hell was I supposed to act out a bowling ball?” Their friend, Brady, shoots back defensively; a grin takes over his face at the ridiculous round of charades he and his teammate, Jessica Moore, had just failed miserably._

_“Alright, let's see if you and Sam can do any better,” Brady challenges._

_“You know we can,” Sam returns, standing up with a smirk and earning a high-five from Harper. Someone hands Harper the prompt card, and she looks at with furrowed brows for a moment, before nodding and handing it back._

_Harper starts by holding up four fingers, until Sam realizes she means there are four letters in the word. Then, she spreads her arms out wide and flaps them up and down, before turning in a wide circle, keeping her arms outstretched._

_“Um, a dragonfly!?” Sam queries. Harper stops in her tracks and gives him her signature ‘what the fuck’ look. Sam and everyone else in the room burst out laughing; they know this look well, each one of them having received it, especially Sam._

_“I’m kidding! You’re a bird,” Sam finally states after the laughter dies down._

_“Yes!” Harper sighs out exasperatedly, but with a grin on her face._

_“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird,” Sam says smoothly. Harper is left momentarily speechless, gazing up at Sam’s face, his warm eyes and soft smile making her heart skip a beat. Then suddenly, the bright flash from a camera snaps Harper into action; rolling her eyes and smacking Sam on the arm, she tries to play it off and hide the fact the her grin was now twice the size. While the girls in the room let out a collective awe, one guy exposes them._

_“Wait, you two saw The Notebook!?” He asks._

_“How do you know it’s from The Notebook, Jerry?” Sam tries to call him out._

_“I’ve got a girlfriend!” Jerry shoots right back. Sam ducks his head, scratching at the back of his neck._

_“Well, I think it’s cute he went to see it with his best friend.” Jessica, the new girl that Brady introduced to them all a couple weeks ago, speaks up. Sam looks up and returns her smile, adding a subtle wink and completely missing the way Harper’s face fell._

* * *

**_Safehouse; Present day_  **

 

 “Sam?” Maisie calls his name again questioningly, waving a hand in front of his face. Sam looks up suddenly from where the picture leans against the hallway wall and smiles.

“Yeah, she really is,” he answers, before heading up the stairs to find Harper and tell her this himself.

“Man, he’s so whipped. What a fucking sap,” Dean comments unnecessarily from his spot on the couch.

“Shut the fuck up, Dean, at least Sam doesn’t run from his feelings,” Maisie sasses back, channeling her inner Harper, before disappearing out the back door and leaving Dean in a stunned silence.


	17. A World With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: I Love You by Alex & Sierra / Nirvana by Sam Smith
> 
> *Dean aggressively worries* So sorry about the late release guys, I was really excited for this chapter, but working 2 jobs kind of got in our way :/  
> P.s. Dean and maisie a.k.a Daisie, are too cute to function!
> 
> A/N: you’ll be confused for a while but just keep reading and it’ll all make sense by the end, I swear! But if there is anything you miss or don’t understand, feel free to send us an ask! :) we don’t mind lol -mara

* * *

 

The first rays of the warm, setting sun filter through Maisie’s eyelashes as her eyes flutter free of sleep. She runs her hands over the tan leather seats beneath her, recognizing they belong to Dean’s Impala. Suddenly, Maisie realizes she is laying with her head in someone's lap, as they start to run their fingers through her hair. She knows that touch.

Maisie can _barely_ hear the quiet gravel of Dean’s voice humming along to Led Zeppelin, above Baby’s low rumble, as she lets herself revel in the feeling of being so close to him again. She has had this daydream a hundred times; it's her favorite one.

Looking up at Dean, she takes her time studying the character in his every feature. The unyielding line of his jaw, only interrupted by the cleft in his chin, that she loves. She even tries counting the freckles splayed on his cheeks and nose, but just like always, she comes away happy with the fact that they are innumerable.

Eventually feeling Maisie’s gaze on him, he slides his forest eyes down to connect with hers, giving her a soft grin that brings out the crinkles by his eyes.

“Good morning, sunflower,” Dean purrs. A mix of emotions play on Maisie’s face at the term of the endearment, but she can't stop the smile that wins out in the end. Sitting up, Maisie swings her legs up and around to be able to straddle Dean’s lap.

“Well, someone woke up on the right side of seat,” Dean laughs, and she can feel the rumble in his chest. Running a hand through his short cropped hair, Maisie tugs just enough to tilt his head up. He keeps his eyes on the road, but she she can't keep her eyes or hands off of him.

Maisie eliminates the space between them and unites her lips with Dean’s in one fluid movement. Dean lets out a low growl at the sudden sensation, but reciprocates instantly. _God_ , this one feels so real. Every part of her being is ignited.

Dean manages to pull himself away long enough to get out a fragmented sentence in between Maisie's continued pecks. “Maisie. Driving.”

“Mmm, just pull over.” Maisie bites her lip with a grin. Dean has to take a deep breath to pull himself together before giving her a tortured look.

“As much as I would _love_ that, I'm scared Harper would kill me if we’re late for her baby shower.” Maisie suddenly sits up straight, her grin faltering and her brows furrowing.

“What are you talking about? Why would Harper be having a baby shower?” Maisie asks, confusion lacing her tone.

“Probably because she’s six months pregnant..?” Dean replies, giving Maisie a confused look. Maisie starts shaking her head, sliding off of Dean’s lap. “What’s wrong, babe?” Dean adds to her continued strange reaction.

“I just… I don’t understand,” Maisie murmurs.

“Well, I’m not a baby shower expert, so you’ll have to ask Harper. We’re almost there.” Maisie nods half-heartedly, though her sense of confusion doesn’t fade. In all of the times she’s dreamed about Dean, it’s definitely never gone like this. It’s also never felt this real before, either. Something feels off about this, but Maisie doesn’t have time to contemplate it as Dean pulls the Impala parallel to curb of a typical suburban house.

The house is a simple one-story with a perfectly manicured front lawn. A few cars are parked in the driveway and on the street near it. While Maisie is too busy staring at the house, Dean jumps out and holds her door open, waiting for her to step out into suburbia.

“Maisie?” Dean calls softly, concerned. “I know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen your sister, but c’mon, it’ll be fine.” He holds his hand out to her, which Maisie takes hesitantly. Maisie trails behind Dean as they make their way up the stone path to the bright, yellow door. Almost as soon as Dean knocks, the door breezes open, a widely smiling and definitely pregnant Harper greeting them.

“What the fuck!?” Maisie can’t help but exclaim, loud enough for a couple of suburban moms, probably named Sharon and Janet, to turn their heads and look on disapprovingly.

“Well, hi to you too, sis,” Harper manages a somewhat strained laugh as Dean shakes his head with a sigh. Maisie tries to recover her composer with an apologetic smile, but she can’t seem to form a coherent sentence. It’s all too much, Harper with a too-big-for-her-face smile, standing next a door painted a color Harper wouldn’t be caught dead near; all the while wearing a daisy print sundress, in the suburbs. Maisie isn’t so sure this is a dream anymore, but if it isn’t, then what the hell is happening!?

Harper tries to pull Maisie in for a hug, but she even smells different. Suddenly, Maisie can’t breath properly; no matter how hard she tries to take a deep breath, she can barely manage a short one. Harper notices that Maisie is shaking, and pulls back to see Maisie’s wide eyes dart from one spot to the next, but never focusing.

“Mais? Maisie, look at me. You have to breathe,” Harper tries to plead. When Maisie doesn’t respond, Harper turns her concerned eyes on Dean, and he nods.

“Just give us a sec, Harp,” Dean says quietly, and Harper steps out of the way. Taking a hold of Maisie’s shaking hands, he pulls her close and wraps his arms around her, lightly resting her head on his chest.

_“I fell in love with a beautiful girl and she still takes my breath away,”_ Dean quietly starts to sing one of Maisie’s favorite songs in her ear. Her wildly beating heart and quickened breathing make it hard to focus on his words. But the moment he sings the first words of the chorus, she sucks in a deep breath, wanting to make sure she hears those words again.

“ _I love you. More than you think I do.”_ Dean continues to sing the words to her softly, and as he says the words again, and again, Maisie can’t help but melt into him. Slowly but surely her breathing regulates, and she breathes in Dean and his words. She looks at him with watery eyes, wondering why it can’t be like this when she wakes up.

“Thank you,” Maisie murmurs.

“Works every time,” Dean replies simply, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “You good?” He adds. When Maisie nods, he pulls back, but keeps one of her hands in his as they finally manage to enter the house. Harper rushes forward, hesitating for a second, before Maisie pulls her in for a more successful hug.

“Maisie, I’m begging you to go see that therapist I found. I just want you to be okay,” Harper says lowly, looking Maisie in the eye for a long minute. Maisie tries to keep her face neutral as she looks Harper up and down.

“Um yeah, is that how, you got so, uh…” Maisie trails off, splaying her arms to gesture to their surroundings, not sure how to describe it.

“Happy?” Harper finishes for her with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Maisie laughs.

At that moment, Sam appears next to Harper, wearing a smile as soon as he is in her presence. He places his hand on the small of her back, and plants a kiss on the top of her head.

“How’s my lovely wife feeling? Need anything?” Sam asks, and Maisie glances between the couple, bewildered.

Harper smiles up at him. “No, I’m good,” she replies, placing a hand over her stomach. “ _We’re_ good.”

“Get a room, you two,” Dean says, jokingly, and releases Maisie’s hand to hug his brother. Dean slips his hand back into Maisie’s immediately after the embrace.

“I think that’s what got us here in the first place.” Sam smirks, earning a swift smack on the shoulder from Harper. Dean lets out a laugh, and Maisie manages a smile, despite her confusion at the entire situation.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Harper drags out the word. “How are you two doing? Your, uh, ‘cases’ going well?” She asks the second question with a tight-lipped smile.

“The cases are fine, and we are doing great,” Dean responds, squeezing Maisie’s hand.

“Great, as in there might an engagement ring in the near future?” Harper beams, but Maisie freezes at the words.

Dean laughs nervously. “I guess we’ll see. But what about your cases, Sammy? The other lawyers treating you well?”

The conversation continues, but Maisie’s mind is reeling. What the fuck is going on? Harper is happy, pregnant, and married to Sam. Dean is talking about getting engaged. Sam is a lawyer. It’s as if she woke up in another universe. Everything seems too... perfect.

“When’s the last time you went on a hunt?” Maisie asks suddenly, interrupting the flow of discussion.

Harper scrunches her eyebrows at her sister. “Not since Sam and I got together in college, Mais.”

Sam gives Dean a questioning glance, silently asking him why Maisie was bringing this up now, but Dean shrugs, just as mystified.

Ignoring the looks, Maisie glances around the living room, noting the suburban moms and the baby shower decorations. A thought hits her, and she starts examining the faces around her. Where’s Piper? And what about Gandalf and Neptune?

“Is Red not coming?” Maisie asks, out-of-the-blue, again.

Harper exchanges a glance with Sam. “Who’s Red?”

“Uh, Piper?” Concern and confusion starts coursing through Maisie.

“I don’t know a Piper, sis. Are you sure you’re okay?” Harper asks, feeling puzzled by her seemingly random questions. Maisie turns to Dean now, the same question prevalent in her eyes, but he shakes his head, giving her no solace.

“Where’s Neptune?” Maisie tries.

“The planet?  Last time I checked it was still in space,” Harper laughs half-heartedly. Even though Maisie is slightly glad this version of Harper hasn't lost her sense of humor, it isn't the answer Maisie wants.

This is the last straw, Maisie needs answers on what the hell is going on, and she isn't finding them here in the suburbs.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Maisie takes one last look at her sister's confused, yet glowing face, before she breezes past them all and out of the front door. Once outside, she looks up and down the street, contemplating how she is going to get where she needs to go. Chewing on her bottom lip, Maisie takes a step forward as her eyes land on the Impala.  

“You're gonna need these,” Dean’s voice suddenly comes behind her, and she whirls around to see him holding up his keys. “I mean, I know you could hotwire her, but _you know_ you'd be dead,” he adds with half a smirk, but Maisie can tell by the way his eyes are boring into hers that he's more concerned than amused.

“Dean, I can't explain it, but something's going on…” Maisie tries find a way to explain herself, but Dean doesn't let her finish.

“I get it, Maisie. I know you'd rather keep everything inside than tell me what's going on with you. I thought maybe we'd gotten past this...” Dean shakes his head, momentarily lost for what he should say.

Maisie doesn't understand where this is coming from. Her problem has always been oversharing; Harper is the one who won't open up. Harper is the one that Maisie still begs to see a therapist. But she just adds that to the list of things that don't make any sense today. Finally, Dean seems to have made up his mind on what he wants to say.

“But I'll be here when you're ready to come home.” Maisie doesn't know what to say so she turns to action and steps into his arms. As she pulls back, she plants a soft kiss on his lips before retrieving the keys from him and turning back to the Impala.

Pulling the door open, she hesitates, looking to Dean one last time. “Dean, do _we…_ where's our dog?” She asks tentatively. Dean sighs like he's answered this a hundred times.

“You know how I feel about dogs in Baby. Maybe when we retire I'll get you your husky, but I'm not that whipped yet,” he winks at her. She manages a small smile for his sake, then slides into the Impala. Her need to find answers, that can hopefully make some kind of sense of the last few hours, drives her on, even as she watches Dean and her sister’s perfect life disappear in the rear-view mirror.

* * *

After finding out she was in one of the suburbs outside of Dallas, Texas, Maisie sets her course for Piper’s hometown: New Orleans. It was where she and Harper had first met Piper when they saved her from a local witch, or more specifically, Piper’s mother.

They had barely escaped with their lives, and Piper’s mother had disappeared. But all that matters is Piper was spared, and they gained a new sister. Harper and Maisie even tried to convince Piper to change her last name to Raven.

Maisie is startled from her wandering thoughts by her ringtone sounding off. She glances down at her phone on the seat beside her, the breath catching in her throat at the name that pops up.

**_Mom_ ** ****

 

It can't be. Laelynn had been dead for over five years. Maisie continues to stare down at the picture in disbelief, momentarily forgetting her surroundings until she almost swerves off the road. She regains control only to pull to the side of the road before she finally picks up her phone and answers.

“Maisie?” A light voice calls through the receiver. All of the sudden, Maisie feels like a little girl again, only needing to hear her mom’s voice.

“Baby girl, what’s going on?” Laelynn speaks again, breaking through Maisie’s shocked silence.

“Mom?” Maisie manages to whispers as she chokes back tears.

“Yes, honey. I was only fashionably late to Harper’s, but you had already gone. They said you were behaving strangely, everybody’s worried.” Maisie is so lost in hearing her dead foster-mother’s voice, that she doesn’t know what to say when Laelynn is finished.

“Um, I’m sorry I missed you,” Maisie says, her voice wavering.

“Don’t worry about that, I see you plenty.” Maisie squeezes her eyes shut at this, wishing it was true. “I just want to know if you’re okay?” Laelynn finishes.

“I- I’ll be okay, mom. I just need to figure some things out,” Maisie replies.

“Okay, you just call me the minute you need anything.” Laelynn urges. Maisie takes a deep breath, a tortured smile spread on her lips.

“I will, Mom. It’s good to hear your voice,” Maisie concedes.

“You, too, Maisie.”

A thought suddenly pops into Maisie’s head. “Mom, have you visited Momma Q lately?” Maisie asks.

Laelynn sighs quietly. “Not for a few months, honey. It’s too much, seeing her name on that grave every time.”

Maisie sucks in a long breath, shaking her head. It is like an alternate universe where Laelynn and Quincy have switched places.

“O- of course, I’m sorry. I, uh, have to go, Mom. I love you,” Maisie breathes out earnestly, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

“I love you, too, honey. Talk to you soon.”

Maisie hangs up her phone, letting it slip out of her fingers as a sob shakes her. She rests her head on the steering wheel, the tears finally cascading down her face. This _can't_ be real. In the midst of her confusion and heartache, something abruptly clicks into place.

_An alternate universe._

Harper and Sam being together since college… Maisie had always wished for that, Harper leaving the life and being happy. The final piece clicks into place.

_The Djinn!_

* * *

The crunch of leaves sound underfoot as Maisie weaves her way along the cemetery path. She searches for the plot that was listed on the newspaper article she found in the local New Orleans library. Her heartbeat thuds louder in her chest with every heavy step. She has to see it for herself to believe it's real. Biting her lip nervously, Maisie pushes forward, reading headstones waiting for a familiar name it pop out at her. It should be around here somewhere.

_There._ The name stands out as everything else seems to fade away. Her heart stops.

                                                   **_Piper Adelia Evans_ **

**_1987-2008_ **

Maisie stares at the numbers, the only thing to distinguish Piper from every other mottled, grey headstone along the row. That year, 2008, should have been the year Harper and Maisie found and saved Piper. But in this strange, dream world, where everything is supposed to be changed for the better, it is the year Piper died.

She now realizes her subconscious has been considering staying, not fighting for the real world, and living her dream life where everyone is happy for a change. Until now. She has to figure out a way to wake herself up.

* * *

Holding her phone to her ear in one hand, and gripping the Impala’s steering wheel with the other, Maisie floors the gas pedal; she knows what she has to do.

“Hello? Maisie?” Dean’s voice makes Maisie’s heart flutter, her grip softening slightly.

“Dean, I love you. And I’m sorry for this. Give my mom a hug for me and tell Harper I’m glad she’s happy,” Maisie quavers. She knows this isn’t reality, but it still tears at her heart to say goodbye like this.

“Maisie, what the hell are you talking about!? You’re scaring me, sunflower,” Dean pleads.

“It’s okay, I’m coming home.” Maisie hangs up the phone before her resolve can waver. “I’m sorry, Baby, but at least you’re not my Sweetheart,” she murmurs before turning the wheel as hard as she can, her foot heavy on the gas; then, all control slips from her grasp as the world spins out of focus.

* * *

Maisie heavily blinks her eyes open, this time only shadows greeting her. She struggles to find purchase on the stone floor as she hangs from her bound hands, a long chain and hook securing her position above the ground. Her senses slowly become sharper, the longer she is awake; the worn-down warehouse takes shape around her. No djinn in sight, Maisie tries to think away out of this situation. Glancing at the chain and hook, an idea strikes her.

It takes her a few tries before she manages to grab the chain with her hands, and a few more tries to successfully pull her bound hands free of the hook. But she eventually manages the feat. Maisie hits the cold, harsh floor with a thud and a groan of pain. _God, that hurt_. Her already weak body feels even more drained after somehow pulling herself from the hook.

She lays there for a second, her eyes shut tightly, as she recuperates from the fall. She gathers enough strength to start crawling through the discarded boxes and broken glass littering the ground, making it to a doorway where she attempts to pull herself to a somewhat upright position.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A voice growls behind Maisie, making her freeze.

In a panic, she searches for anything she can use as a weapon, the djinn drawing dangerously closer. Her fingers finally close around a metal pipe, swinging it up and around with whatever strength she has left, as the djinn reaches her. But her effort is futile; the djinn easily batting the pipe away, then grabbing for her throat.

She kicks and squirms, struggling for breath and her life. Her vision begins to narrow, and she can feel her fight leaving her. Suddenly, she’s back on the floor, gulping in air, the djinn’s body crumpling beside her. Arms are now cradling her, and she looks up to see Dean’s worried face staring down at her.

“Hey, hey, deep breathes. You’re okay now, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pushing her disheveled hair out of her face. Surprised by the tenderness in his voice, Maisie finds herself reaching up and caressing his cheek. _This is real,_ this _is home_ , she thinks.

“I love you,” Maisie breathes. Dean’s heart skips a beat; she didn’t mean that, did she?

 


	18. Troubled Thoughts And The Self-Esteem To Match (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Drown (New) by Bring Me The Horizon
> 
> if anyone knows what the title is a reference to, you get brownie points lol -mara

* * *

 

Harper’s phone dings, waking her from her sleep, and for once, she’s grateful for the rude awakening because it pulled her out of a nightmare. She grabs it off her bedside table, bumping into Neptune’s fluffy body beside her. It’s a text from Maisie.

 

_           Hey, found a case in Aspen, CO. I think it’s a djinn? About to check out a place. I’ll send you my location, just in case. Text you when I’m done :) _

 

Harper sends back a quick, good-luck message, and checks the time. A little after eight o’clock. She only slept for about 4 hours. Even though she’s tired, Harper pushes herself out of bed, heading downstairs for the coffee maker with Neptune in tow. 

The house is quiet without Maisie or Piper. While Maisie wanted to hunt alone, Piper had work, which left Harper with the dogs. Harper glances at her phone, contemplating calling Sam simply to break the silence, but she decides against it. This is her first time home alone in months; she should be enjoying the quiet. 

After a few cups of coffee and some channel surfing, Harper takes the dogs on a walk to get out of the house. The day passes slowly, one lazy hour after another, Harper finding odd jobs to keep her occupied. But as morning turns into afternoon, her mind drifts to Maisie for probably the 100th time, realizing she hadn’t heard from her since that text this morning. Harper sends her a quick text, checking in, then waits for a response. 

But Maisie doesn’t text back. 

After another hour with nothing from Maisie, Harper tries calling her, only to receive her chipper voicemail. An anxious Harper jumps into her truck, an overnight bag in the passenger seat. She texts Piper, asking her to stay at the Safehouse with the dogs, before Harper takes off, driving hastily toward Maisie’s last known location. Knowing she won’t be able to do this on her own, Harper calls the one other person she can rely on.

“Hey, Harper,” Sam says cheerfully through the phone receiver.

“Sam, um, we have a problem.”

“What’s wrong?” His tone turns serious in a flash.

Harper’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Maisie went on a hunt  _ alone _ , and she hasn’t responded to any of my texts or calls all day.” Harper shouldn’t have let her go by herself; she should’ve gone with Maisie, as back-up.

“Shit, where is she?”

“I’m sending it to you now,” Harper says before pulling her phone away and sending a text to Sam with the details. “Did you get it?”

There’s a rustling sound before he responds, “Yeah, I got it. Dean, we gotta go!” Sam yells away from the phone, but Harper hears it all the same. “We’ll meet you there, Harper, okay? Everything will be fine.”

“Fuck, fuck, fucking  _ fuck _ ,” Harper screams, her knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. “This is all my fucking fault, I shouldn’t have let her go… fucking shit.” Harper swerves her truck around a slow driver and continues racing down the roads.

“I don’t think swearing is going to help, Harp. Take a deep breath,” Sam says calmly.

“How the fuck would you know? Maybe swearing will fucking help!” 

Sam sighs. “Harper, what was she hunting?”

“I don’t--- Oh! It was a fucking, uh, djinn? Yeah, a djinn.” Harper has never met one before, and ignorance seems to be her downfall in this situation. “I don’t even know how to fucking kill the thing, fuck, I’m the worst.”

“Dean and I have dealt with them before, okay? We’ll take care of it, you can just focus on Maisie when we get there.” Sam tries to be the voice of reason, but Harper’s anxiety is taking over, making it difficult to hear anything besides her dismal thoughts.

“If she’s even alive when we get there,” she blurts out but feels immediate regret, as it sends her mind down that line of thought. “Fuck,” Harper says, shutting her eye tightly to push away the images of Maisie, broken and gone. “Sam, I can’t--”

“I know, I know,” he interrupts her desperate words. “Djinns kill people really slowly, Harp. They drain the life out of them, so she should be okay by the time we get there.”

“How the fuck is that supposed to make me feel better?!” Harper’s heart starts pounding uncontrollably, and suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. “Fuck, Sam, I can’t…” She lets out a shallow breath.

“Harper, babe, please, just take a few deep breaths with me.” Sam and Harper take three deep breaths together over the phone, slowly inhaling and exhaling until she calms down enough. “That’s good, now, Dean and I are on our way. Maisie will be okay, she’s tough.”

“Yeah, she has to be, to deal with me all the fucking time,” Harper mumbles, making a half-hearted joke; she feels a bit more put-together after taking a moment to breathe. Her mind, although, is still reeling with thoughts of guilt. She couldn’t stop blaming herself for this horrendous turn of events. 

“Please, stay on the phone with me.” Harper’s voice sounds so small and defeated that it breaks Sam’s heart. 

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of hanging up.”

* * *

Sam sits in the passenger seat of the Impala, leaning his head against the window as he talks to Harper on his phone. Dean drives, speeding like a maniac and letting nothing stand in his way. His jaw clenched, he can’t help the worry coursing through his veins. He barely hears a word that Sam is saying to Harper, because he’s too engrossed in thoughts of Maisie. 

The minute Dean saw Sam’s face as he said her name, Dean’s heart dropped. He didn't care what he had to do. He would search the world over to find her, but he couldn't lose her too. 

Regret and guilt swarm his conscience; he shouldn’t have kissed her. He should’ve talked to her after kissing her. He shouldn’t have tried to kiss her  _ again _ . Dean should have done a lot of things, but now that there is a possibility he won’t be able to right those wrongs, that Maisie might not make it out of this one, Dean wishes he would have done right by her. He feels like an asshole. He  _ is _ an asshole. 

_ I have to fix this _ , Dean thinks.  _ I need to say sorry, we need to deal with the problems between us. Hold on, Maisie, we’re coming. Just, please… hold on. _


	19. Atlas Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Songs: Neptune by Sleeping At Last / Collar Full by Panic! At the Disco
> 
> This is the chapter that i’ve been looking forward to ever since the idea popped in my head, are you ready? Cuz i sure fucking am -mara
> 
> ‘Confirmed dumbass gets what he fucking deserves for putting literal ray of sunshine through some heartbreak shit.’ -Hope

* * *

 

Harper sits in a chair near Maisie, laying quietly in one of the guest bedrooms in the bunker. Thoughts of worry run through Harper as she looks at her sister’s sleeping form.  _ Maisie is okay now _ , she keeps telling herself. She should’ve been there to save Maisie from the djinn. But she wasn’t. 

_ Maisie could’ve died while you were just enjoying the house all to your fucking self _ , Harper thinks, clenching her fists in her lap. If she closes her eyes long enough, Harper can see Maisie’s bruised and visibly weak form, being cradled in Dean’s arms after he saved her. 

* * *

**_The day before_ **

 

Holding an unconscious Maisie in his arms, Dean kept her close as he carried her to the Impala, while Sam pulled open the back passenger seat. Harper’s truck came flying into the parking lot, barely thrown into park before Harper’s feet hit the ground. Leaving the the driver’s door wide open in her hurry, she sprinted full speed to Dean.

Harper slowed down though, when she was close, afraid to see her sister in such a broken state. Her fists clenched, angry at herself for letting Maisie hunt on her own, and angry at Dean for being the reason she wanted to hunt alone, in the first place. Hot tears welled up in her eyes, staring down Dean.

“If you hadn’t fucking kissed her and ran off--” Harper gritted her teeth, stopping herself from taking her aggression out him. “And if I hadn’t fucking let her go,” she added, looking back at Maisie.

“What the hell does this have to do with me?” Dean shot back, not letting her back down.

“Just put her in the fucking car, I’ll ride with you.” Harper turned to Sam then, ignoring Dean as he placed her inside the Impala. Harper’s expression softened at Sam’s reassuring gaze, steady on her. He took a step closer to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders, drawing her attention to his gaze.

“She’s fine, just needs some rest,” Sam said, rubbing his hands up and down Harper’s arms. She wanted to hug him, but didn’t give in. Knowing she was on the verge of breaking down, she couldn't give in without falling apart from relief and guilt in Sam’s arms.

Harper gestured to her truck. “Will you drive her back to the bunker? I want to stay with Maisie.”

Sam nodded and gave her a small smile. “Of course, she’s in good hands.” Harper stared at the Impala for a second too long, lost in dark thoughts. Sam noticed and pulled her out of it. “Hey,” he drew her attention back to him. “It’s not your fault.”

Harper’s expression went dark, and she shook her head. “Yes, it is… but it’s also Dean’s.” She walked away, carefully getting into the back of Baby with Maisie laying across the seats; Dean was already in the driver’s seat, ready to leave.

Sam let out a long sigh. “Try to play nice,” he replied, holding the door open to prevent Harper from closing it before he had the chance to say something. He closed the door and headed to Harper’s truck. 

After a few minutes of a silent drive, Dean spoke up. “What do I have to do with...  _ this _ ?”

Harper held Maisie’s head in her lap, playing absent-mindedly with her hair as she stared out window. “I feel like that should be obvious, Dean.”

He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Maybe… but tell me anyway.” 

Harper let out a heavy sigh, trying to keep her anger in check. “You’ve been fucking with her, and she wanted to clear her head by hunting alone. So I let her, which was a fucking stupid choice on my part. Should've just told her to punch you. Did wonders for me.”

Dean’s jaw clenched at the answer. “Alright, guess this is on me.”

“Yeah, but it’s my fault, too.” Harper looked down at Maisie, noting every bruise and cut she could see. Every little bump and bruise was their fault.

* * *

**_Present day_ **

 

Harper can’t sit here anymore, staring at her recovering sister and remembering every little detail. She couldn’t bear the blame.

Leaving the room as quietly as she came in, Harper starts to wander the halls of the quiet bunker. She isn’t sure what time it is, only that everyone is asleep, except for her. She can’t sleep anymore, not without nightmares, which is why she wanders the halls now, hoping that she will get tired enough to sleep for a few hours. Although the longer she is awake, the more time she has to think about the weight of the secrets on her shoulders, and the anxieties she carries every day. 

Eventually Harper pushes the thoughts away as she finds an interesting book from the library, delving into the fictional universe as if her sanity depended on it. Due to her sleep deprivation and intense focus, she didn’t even hear Sam enter the room. He smiles when he sees her reading one of his books, but the happiness fades after he notices she’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday, only more wrinkled. He notes the bags under her eyes and the distress in her expression.

“Harper?” Sam gently grabs her attention; she puts the book the down, watching him as he walks around the table to her. 

She gives him the best smile she can muster, which isn’t particularly convincing. “Hey,” Harper replies lamely.

“Have you gotten any sleep?” He asks, concern written on his face, as he sits on the table.

Harper looks away from him. Knowing he won’t like the answer, she doesn’t respond right away. Instead of the straight yes-or-no he wanted, she simply says, “What can I say? This is a good book so far.”

“Harper,” Sam says sharply, and the harshness causes Harper’s eyes to fall back on him. “When’s the last time you got a good night’s sleep?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why the hell are you awake?” Harper immediately pushes back to his question, tension running through her at his tone; she can’t remember the last time she slept longer than four hours. 

Sam sighs, dropping his arms back to his sides. “I always run at five-thirty every morning. Why are  _ you  _ awake?” he asks more softly this time, conveying his concern and care for her.

Harper examines Sam’s face, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. Sam sits quietly, waiting for her to decide like he usually does on serious matters; this must be bigger than he originally thought. Harper lets out a sigh, relaxing back in her chair once more.  _ It’s Sam, you can tell him anything _ , she thinks, pushing herself to speak.

“I can’t sleep,” Harper starts, leaning her forearms against the table and clenching her fists. “Too many nightmares.” 

“About what?” Sam prompts her lightly.

She takes a deep breath. “About everything that’s been going on in the last couple of months…” Harper pauses, and Sam’s hand falls gently on her arm, offering some support. “From Ellis, and Piper’s kidnapping, and Maisie… She’s caught up in all of this, too. And I don’t want to add to her stress, so I just…” Her voice trails off, anxiety spiking as she talks.

“Keep it to yourself?” Sam offers, his thumb brushing back and forth on her forearm. 

Harper nods. “I can’t tell her about the nightmares, or her--” she cuts herself off, deciding to rephrase what she is about to say. “The, uh, thing our mom told me,” she completes vaguely. She blows out a heavy breath. “She can’t know.” Harper makes eye contact with Sam to convey how adamant she is about the secrecy of this conversation.

“I won’t say anything, I promise.” Sam pauses, as he watches Harper visibly relax. “But can you promise me something?”

Harper eyes him, cautious and curious. “Depends…”

Sam smiles briefly; that response doesn’t surprise him at all. “If you have a nightmare, will you please call me? I don’t care what time it is. You need to let someone help you with it,” he says, watching her expression as she deliberates. Meeting his eyes again, Harper nods. “That also implies that you actually try to sleep,” he adds, and she rolls his eyes, shaking her head. “So, come on.”

Sam hops to his feet, holding onto Harper’s hand, and gives her a gentle tug. She doesn’t move. “I can’t…” Harper mumbles, her free hand unclenching as she feels slightly defeated.

He tugs again. “You can, because you’re going to the Nightmare-Free Zone,” Sam replies with a lighthearted smile.

Harper rolls her eyes. “There’s no such thing, Sam.”

“Of course, there is! Come on.” He pulls on her hand again, but this time, Harper stands up, letting him take her away from the library. She follows him, but stops abruptly when Sam starts to turn the door handle to his room. 

“Really, Sam?” Harper says, pulling her hand away from him and crossing her arms.

He gives her a goofy smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Really, Harper.” Sam pushes into his room, leaving her in the hallway; breathing out a sigh, Harper follows him in. His room is relatively clean, except for the bit of clutter on his desk. 

Sam pulls out a t-shirt from his dresser and throws it at Harper, who stands only a few feet into his room. “Since you like  _ only  _ wearing a big shirt to bed,” he teases. She responds by simply flipping him off, which causes laughter to roll through Sam. “Do you want shorts or something? This is all about you feeling comfortable and safe,” he adds, more seriously, as he rummages through his dresser again. 

Harper fumbles with the black shirt in her hands, feeling awkward. “Um, I could go get my own clothes, you know?”

Sam glances at her, a shy smile on his face; he shrugs. “I like it when you wear something of mine,” he responds quietly before turning back to his dresser. Harper stares at his back, stunned into silence by his comment; a blush creeps over her cheeks. “So, which one?” Sam glances back at her, holding a pair of shorts and sweatpants.

“Uhhh, sweatpants?” 

Sam tosses them to her and heads to the door. “I’ll step out so you can change.” With that, he leaves her in his room. 

Harper stares at the door, disbelief coursing through her. She just finished telling him about how messed up she is, and he flirts? She couldn’t comprehend it. Pushing those thoughts out of mind, she quickly sheds off yesterday’s clothes, replacing them with Sam’s. After folding her clothes and putting it in a pile near the door, Harper opens it, letting Sam back in.

He nods toward the bed. “Go on, climb in.” Harper complies, settling into the blankets, before watching Sam grab his desk chair and slide it toward her side of the bed; he plops into his seat beside her. “Comfy?” he asks, and Harper makes a show of snuggling into the blankets before nodding. Sam grins. “Good… Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?”

“You don’t have to. I know you want to go running,” Harper replies, although hoping he will stick around a bit longer.

Sam waves it off. “I can run after. You’re more important.”

A grin spreads over Harper’s face, which she quickly hides behind the blanket. Sam turns off the lamp beside him, and the room goes dark. Sam’s chair creaks as he leans back.

“Good night, Harper,” Sam says quietly.

“Why are you whispering?” Harper mumbles into the pillow.

“Just go to sleep.” The amusement is clear in his tone, and causes Harper to let out a soft laugh.

“Fine… Night, Sam.” Silence falls over them; only their breathing and the occasional squeak of Sam’s chair break the quiet every now and then.

Harper thought her mind would be reeling by the time she laid down after her talk with Sam, but as she lays there, all she can think about is how the pillow smells like him. She relaxes, finding comfort in the scent, and her breathing evens out as she falls asleep.

* * *

Sam sits there longer than he would care to admit. He listens to her breathing and her occasional shifting to a more comfortable position. He stays long enough to know she isn’t having a nightmare. 

On his run, his thoughts focus on her, and he can’t quite shake them away, not that he wants to. He just wishes he knew how she feels about him, that what’s going on between them isn’t all in his head. But he can’t spring this on her now. Clearly, she has enough on her plate, and he doesn’t want to add to it. 

Sam carries these thoughts with him when he returns; he is so lost in thought, that he is surprised to find Dean and Cas making breakfast in the kitchen. Cas is setting the table with plates, while Dean cooks eggs and bacon on the stove. 

“Morning,” Dean greets Sam as he walks to the refrigerator for a water bottle.

Sam glances between his brother and Cas. “Uh, hey guys. Make enough for me?” He grabs a water bottle and takes a swig from it.

“Yep,” Dean replies. “Enough for the five of us.”

“Alright, I’m gonna take a shower quickly, then I’ll join you guys,” Sam replies, heading for the exit.

“I'll grab Harper. Uh, Cas, you wanna check on Maisie?” Dean asks, trying to sound nonchalant, but Sam catches the incertitude in his voice. 

Sam stops in the doorway and turns around. He has to say something about Harper, without telling them why. “I’d leave Harper be. She had a hard time falling asleep last night…”

Dean throws a look at Sam, eyebrow raised. “Oh, really? You and H.R. stay up late together?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Not the way you’re thinking.” Dean laughs, turning his focus back to the stove. “I’ll check on her before I shower,” Sam adds before leaving the kitchen and heading toward Harper. 

He opens the door to his bedroom, the light in the hallway brightening up the room enough to be able to see. Harper is sound asleep, curled up in his bed. Sam pauses at the end of the bed, looking at her sleeping form, and is unable to help the smile tugging at his mouth. Not wanting to wake her, he quietly grabs fresh clothes out of his dresser before heading out the door. As he closes it, Sam takes one last look at Harper, sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothes. The smile is stuck on his face as he softly closes the door behind him.

Sam turns, coming face-to-face with Maisie. He is surprised by her sudden presence, and grabs her arm, pulling her away from his door. “What are--

“I wanted to see her, but she wasn’t in her room.” Maisie smiles as they walk down the hall to the shower room. A silence falls over them before she asks, “You’re in love with my sister, aren’t you?”

Sam stops outside the door to the showers and glances over at Maisie with a goofy grin, before disappearing through the door.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Maisie says to herself,  before heading back to slip quietly into Sam’s room and lay next to Harper, careful not to wake her. She finds comfort in her sister’s presence and steady breathing. Maisie almost dozes off along with Harper; as Maisie’s eyes start to fall shut, she shifts to a more comfortable position, her foot accidentally brushing Harper’s leg. 

Surprised by the touch, Harper immediately reacts in her anxiety-induced awakening, whipping her hand around and effectively whacking Maisie in the stomach. “Shit, Harper,” Maisie groans, as Harper scrambles into a sitting position.

Harper places a hand over over wildly beating heart. “What the fuck, don’t do that to me,” she says breathlessly as she flips the lamp on. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“It wasn’t exactly pleasant for me either,” Maisie mumbles, rubbing at her stomach.

Realizing what she had done, an apology spills from Harper’s lips. “Fuck, sorry, you’re still hurt, and I just hit you. Why am I such a fuck-up this week?” 

Spurred on Harper’s self-depreciating comment, Maisie sits up, staring down her sister. “None of what happened is your fault, Harper. I’m a grown ass woman who makes her own decisions, sometimes stupid ones, but that’s on me.” Harper can’t match her sisters earnest gaze, looking down to her fidgeting hands.

“Yeah, people keep saying that… I don’t believe ‘em. I’m supposed to watch out for you, I’m the big sister,” Harper replies dejectedly.

“We watch out for each other, Harp. I need you as much as you need me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hold our own sometimes, we can be independent and still lean on each other. You can’t keep the whole big bad world away from me all the time,” Maisie argues, ending with a knowing smirk, because even if it kills her, Harper would still try. 

“You know how much I love your inspirational speeches, Mais, but I still should have been there,” Harper concedes. Maisie sighs, wishing Harper would stop burdening herself every time something bad happens.

“Well, you weren’t and I’m still here. Let’s try to move on… Like, to why you were sleeping in Sam’s bed?” Maisie looks Harper up and down, now noticing she was also wearing unfamiliar clothes. “ _ And  _ wearing his clothes?” Maisie cocks an eyebrow at Harper, amusement alight in her eyes. 

Harper refuses to make eye contact with her sister, a silence falling between them as Harper tries to think of a good excuse. She quickly realizes there isn’t one without giving away her secrets. “Uh, well… I was having a hard time falling asleep… and Sam was being nice ‘cause of who he is as a person…? Nothing happened, I just crashed in here.” 

Maisie rolls her eyes, smiling. “Whatever you say, sis.”

Harper frowns. “What the fuck is  _ that  _ supposed to mean? He was just being a good friend.”

Maisie can’t help letting out a small laugh. “Sam is  _ not  _ ‘just being a good friend.’”

“God, after being drained by a Djinn, I’d think maybe you'd be tired of fucking bringing this up!” Harper suddenly gets heated, not wanting to deal with the pressure of facing her feelings. 

“Well, _I’d_ think that you wouldn't get so worked up over someone who's _just_ a good friend,” Maisie shoots back coolly, only further angering Harper. 

“What do you want me to say, that I love Sam!? Fine! I love Sam Winchester! I'm in love with that stupid son of a bitch, and I can't fucking do anything about it!” Harper yells, her face slowly falling once the realization of what she just admitted sinks in and she knows it's the truth. 

“Harper, he loves you too,” Maisie assures her softly, trying to reach out to her. But Harper abruptly stands up, aggressively running a hand through her hair and shaking her head.

“No, I don’t-- he can't… How could he?” Harper tries to deny, her last question coming out barely above a whisper. 

“Why don't you ask him?” Maisie prods. Harper’s head pops up, her eyes going wide as she makes eye contact with Maisie, who simply nods her head in the direction of the door, smiling encouragingly. Harper squeezes her eyes shut before turning to look at the wide open door, where Sam stands, a mix of surprise and amusement playing on his face. 

“Ask me what, Harper?” Sam takes a few steps into his room, eyes steady on Harper.

“Well, that’s my queue to leave,” Maisie says, hopping up and heading for the hallway. Harper’s eyes nervously dart between Sam and her fleeing sister, silently wishing she could follow her out. Before Maisie exits, she pushes Sam further into the room, closer to Harper, and closes the door shut behind her.

“Oh,  _ now  _ she closes the goddamn door,” Harper sighs, looking up to the ceiling and wondering if there is any way out of this situation.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” Sam asks, trying to push the conversation forward.

Harper frowns, and looks back to him. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that isn’t the question.” 

Harper realizes that he isn’t giving her any way to back out of this. “Fuck,” she mumbles. “I’m gonna have to ask, aren’t I?”

Sam nods, trying to keep his cool, but a small smiles surfaces. “Since when does Harper Raven ever back down from anything?”

Harper lets out a deep breath. “If I ask, then it’s real.”

“Would it be any less real if you didn’t though?” Sam takes another step toward her, only a few feet away. 

Harper maintains eye contact with him, pondering his question for a moment. “I suppose not,” she replies quietly, looking away from Sam. With her heart pounding, Harper starts to ask the question on her mind. “Um, do you-- are you…” She looks at him then, her sapphire eyes watching for his reaction. “Are you, uh… in love with, you know... me?” 

A grin spreads out on Sam’s face, unable to contain his expression at the question. He takes a step closer, taking her hand in his. “Yes, Harper. And don’t you dare even  _ try _ to doubt me when I say I am in love with you.” She looks surprised, as if she isn’t sure that she heard him correctly.

“You are?” Harper asks, timidly, and Sam nods happily.

“But the question is, are you in love with me?” His expression grows more serious, as he asks the question that has been on his mind today.

Harper glances away from Sam, briefly staring the floor. When she looks back, she’s greeted by his bright hazel eyes and smiling lips, and she realizes she can’t deny it anymore. Like Sam said, since when does Harper Raven back down from anything?

“Yeah, I guess you could say I am,” she breaks out into a smile, which Sam reciprocates. 

Unable to fight the gravity anymore, Harper tugs on his hand, and he steps forward, his hands cradling her head in one smooth motion. Her hands instinctively grabs onto Sam’s shirt, pulling him closer, as he drops his head down to her. His lips meet hers, not wasting another second apart. Everything about them seems so simple and clear to Harper in this moment, like finding the constellations on a starry night, that she wonders why they waited so damn long to connect these stars. 

* * *

Maisie pads down the quiet halls of the bunker, a small smile tugging at her lips as she leaves Harper and Sam to finally finish what’s been over ten years in the making. She realizes, it’s time for her to face her own boy troubles; running didn’t do her any good. Looking through the few rooms she passes, Maisie doesn’t find anybody until she nears the garage, where she hears what she can only assume is Dean tinkering. 

Pushing the door open slightly, Maisie peeks her head in, catching a glimpse of Dean under the Impala’s hood. She ventures farther in, admiring the classics as she passes. But she has to admit, Baby is the sweetest one for miles. 

“Looking good,” Maisie says, running a hand over Baby’s smooth, ebony body. 

“Me or the car?” Dean asks, emerging from out of the Impala’s hood with a smirk. Maisie rolls her eyes, but smiles along good naturedly. Dean reaches up and shuts the hood, the loud noise making Maisie’s smile falter as she has a sudden flashback of the moment she crashed the Impala. Dean notices the change on her face, and steps forward to rest a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Dean’s tone is laced with worry. As Maisie looks up into his viridescent eyes, the flashes keep coming, this time of Dean, and she can’t help but feel overwhelmed. 

“Why the fuck did you kiss me only to walk away?” Maisie blurts, some of the weight she’s been carrying around all these weeks seeming to lift after finally letting this one simple question out. But it quickly settles again once she sees the guard back in Dean’s eyes. He steps back again, clenching his jaw, and Maisie sighs frustratedly. 

“What, Dean!? What is it!? One minute I can see how much you care, then the next you turn into an asshole!” Maisie lets loose all the frustration she’s built up because of Dean. It feels good; she’s never been the type of person to hold things in, and it’s been slowly killing her. She waits in a palpable silence as Dean seems to war with himself on what to say. 

“I’m right here, Dean, I’m not holding back, why are you?” She presses. Dean finally looks up.

“Because of you and Cas, okay! He’s my best friend, and he deserves someone as good as you, so I’m trying to stay out of the way, so you don’t have to choose!” Dean admits in a burst. Maisie’s lips part in surprise at Dean’s sudden honesty, staring at him, not able to find what to say. Both of them turn at the sound of the garage door abruptly slamming; Cas stands inside the doorway looking apologetic. 

“Perfect timing,” Dean grumbles, running a hand over his face. 

“I am sorry, I heard yelling but you both appear to be well, I guess I’ll go,” Cas starts to turn, but Maisie stops him.

“No, Cas, stay,” Maisie says, before glaring at Dean. “Why didn’t you tell me we were dating, Cas?” Maisie asks, mock sincerity in her tone. Cas’s eyebrows come together as he tilts his head slightly in confusion.

“I wasn’t aware of this development. I’m sorry to inform you, but I, um- I believe I may have some… Well, romantically inclined feelings for your friend, Piper.” Maisie smiles in spite of herself at Cas’ earnest candor. 

“Oh, good, because I may have some romantically inclined feelings for someone else too. I’m sorry if I ever made you think we were something more than friends,” Maisie replies, earnest in her last statement. Cas shakes his head, confusion still evident on his features.

“I never believed there was anything aside from good camaraderie between us. I always perceived that you were interested in Dean romantically,” Cas states simply with a shrug. Maisie now looks at Dean, her face portraying both exasperation and triumph. Dean’s eyes are wide in surprise, looking between Maisie and Cas, before his expression falls to shame, his gaze sliding to the floor. 

“I will leave you to talk,” Cas declares before exiting the garage. The clang of the door behind him rings out in their ears as Maisie waits for Dean to speak up. She said her piece. 

“So, I can kiss you now?” Dean peers at Maisie, a hesitant smile on his face. 

“Bitch, please. After the bullshit you put me through, you think it’s that easy?” She scoffs, stepping up to jab a finger at his chest. 

“I’m sorry, Maisie, really.” Dean’s crestfallen face softens her stance, but she doesn’t back down.

“You’ve got a lot to make up for,” Maisie concedes. She takes the last step to close the space between them, leaning into Dean, their lips tantalizingly close, before she adds, “If you can keep up.” Maisie then turns on her heel and saunters out of the garage, away from Dean’s wildly beating heart.


	20. The Things You Try To Forget (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Songs: Little House by The Fray / Dirty Laundry by All Time Low
> 
> so as this mini chapter is on a very serious topic, it deserves a serious note. I have not personally dealt with sexual assault, and we are not trying to romanticize it in any way. Just acknowledging it as part of Harper’s backstory. This doesn't go into any graphic details (Harper just talks about her experience) but if you're worried it might trigger you, don't read it. We want you mentally healthy and happy. And if anyone needs to talk, we’re here for you and it'll stay between us! ((I'm majoring in criminal justice and minoring in psychology, so I may not understand this first hand, but I have learned about this sort of thing and know classmates who've dealt with it.)) Always keep fighting, friends. ((also i apologize that this mini-chapter isn’t so mini lol)) -mara

* * *

 

Harper’s truck rolls down a two-lane backroad, headlights piercing through the darkness of night. Music plays quietly in the background, the only noise in the cab of the truck. Arm hanging out the open window, Sam sits quietly, wondering where Harper is taking him and why she couldn’t explain herself back at the bunker.

Harper watches the road upfold, the trees passing by and stars up above. She needed to get away if she is going to explain some of her past to Sam; she needs to tell him if she’s going to be able to move forward with him. Her hands tighten on the steering wheel as she thinks about the boy she hasn’t spoken of since high school. 

Sam notices the subtle change in her grip, and puts a hand on her forearm, earning a glance from Harper. He gives her a reassuring smile, but her eyes fall back on the road, her expression still tense. He retracts his hand before looking out the window once again. The silence drags on until Sam can't contain his curiosity or concern any longer.

“Are we going to talk about what happened back there?” He asks gently, trying to say something,  _ anything _ , at this point; the quiet was slowly killing him.

Harper throws a glance at him before her gaze falls back on the road. “You mean how we were about to have sex, and I had a fucking panic attack?” She responds bluntly, feeling angry at her anxiety-ridden self. 

“Um, yes?” Sam doesn't quite know how to handle her sudden outburst, so he watches her then, waiting quietly for her to open up. 

Harper doesn't respond until she pulls off to the side of the road where a big, empty field rolls out in front of them. Turning off the engine, she slides out and hops into the bed of truck, leaning against the cab to look up at the starry sky. This is her favorite way to calm down, find and recite the names of constellations on a dark night.

Sam follows her, hesitantly at first. He sits down beside Harper, listening to her as she points out the stars and occasionally tells him some back stories to the different constellations. She grows quiet after a few minutes, realizing she can't put this conversation off any longer.

Harper lets out a sigh. “Sorry about earlier.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. But what's going on? I didn't think I was  _ that _ intimidating,” Sam jokes a bit, trying to get her to relax, but she can only manage a small smile that fades almost as quickly as it appears.

“My past likes to catch up with me sometimes…” Harper’s eyes fixate on the sky, trying to keep herself grounded on something present while she remembers her high school days. “I don't like remembering him,” she says after a moment of quiet. “He doesn't deserve another  _ second _ of my goddamn time.”

Sam hesitates. “Who?”

Harper frowns, her underlying anger taking over. “My fucking douchebag high school boyfriend.. Adrián.” She takes a deep breath, trying not to direct her anger toward Sam.

“You know how bad I am at storytelling, but this fucking story, I've relived so many times, I feel like I know it better than I know myself sometimes.” Harper finally looks at Sam; a hint of anger and hurt plays in her eyes along with an emptiness that makes Sam believe that she isn't really seeing him. 

Sam intertwines his fingers with hers; Harper blinks a few times as if her vision is coming into focus. She stares at Sam, deciphering the concern on his face, and squeezes his hand.

“I'm okay,” she says, trying to convince herself as much as Sam.

Harper takes a deep breath before starting her story. “I was fourteen, going into high school. And I met Adrián…” she pauses, as she stares out into the open field. “He was a sixteen year old bad boy. He drove a motherfucking motorcycle to school, who the hell would let their teenager do that?” 

Harper glances at Sam, who wears a confused look as if asking what Adián’s parental guidance has to do with her story. “Right, sorry, random tangent. Anyway… He liked me. I don't know what he saw in me, but I wish he wouldn't have picked me.” She takes a deep breath, pulling her hand out of Sam’s as she brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “Must of thought I would be easy to take advantage of…” Harper mumbles, thinking out loud to herself. 

Sam’s eyes go wide at the statement, heavy concern coursing through him. “Harper, what did he…?” He trails off, unsure of how to ask delicately.

Harper’s arms tighten around her legs, deciding to ignore his question. “And young, stupid me decided that I liked him too, so we started dating…” She pauses, letting out a shaky breath. “Sure, it was fun and exciting for a while, then, Halloween rolled around…”

Something clicks in Sam’s head. “Oh shit, you tried to tell me about this in college, didn't you? This is why you hate Halloween?” 

Harper nods slowly. “Yeah, and you left me before I could.”

“I screwed up worse than I thought, I'm so sorry.” Sam’s words are genuine, tinged with sadness; Harper waves them off.

“I'm telling you now. That's all that matters.” Harper stays quiet for a long time, not wanting to retell one of the worst nights of her life. 

“So, what happened?” Sam asks gently, placing his hand on her back. Harper looks at him for a long moment, taking comfort in his presence. “I'm not going anywhere, you're stuck with me.” He gives her a reassuring smile, which she returns briefly before looking up at the stars.

“Well, Adrián wanted to go to a Halloween house party. I didn't, but I went anyway, for him. We didn't dress up ‘cause Adrián was too cool and edgy to do that. I remember he had this really cool black leather jacket that he'd let me wear sometimes.” A sad smile plays on Harper’s lips. “I thought he was a nice guy…”

Harper suddenly unfolds herself, fidgeting around until she finds a comfortable position to sit in. Her fists clench tightly in her lap.

“So… we mingled around the party, Adrián had a few too many drinks, I guess. And he took me upstairs…” Harper let out an extremely shaky breath, her knuckles going white. “We were alone, and he tried to… take advantage of me?” She says, debating if that's how she should describe it, then adds, talking to herself, “Yeah, I guess I'll leave it at that.”

Sam’s expression falls at her words, a deep sadness taking over. He wants to reach out to her, hold her, and let her know she'll always be able to trust him. But then he notices the way her own grief turns to anger quickly, and he holds himself back.

“That fucking douchebag thought he could just do whatever the hell he wanted to me. He made me feel like I was  _ nothing _ , like I wasn't even human enough to be asked what I wanted.” Harper’s gaze watches the ridges on the bed of the truck, darting back and forth between the lines as she talks. “He just decided for  _ me, _ even though that’s not what I wanted...”

Sam reaches out to her, placing a hand on her sealed fist. Harper is surprised by the touch, reeling back a bit to look at Sam; it’s as if she forgot he was sitting beside her this whole time. 

Harper blinks a few times at him as he talks. “You trusted him?”

Her expression falls, grief taking over once more. “Yeah, I did.”

“What did you do after?”

Harper takes a deep breath, watching Sam this time while she continues her story. “Well, I fought him off of me, stole his motorcycle, and accidentally crashed it into a tree about a mile from the party.” Sam looks a little surprised by that, but she continues on regardless.

“I walked home after the crash, road burn and all… Maisie was the only home when I got there. And I just went to my room and fell asleep, like nothing was wrong.” A lump forms in Harper’s throat, and tears tease at her eyes. “But everything was wrong.”

“Did you tell Maisie? Or your parents?” Sam asks, trying to push the story along and distract away from Harper’s deep sadness.

She clears her throat, regaining some composure. “Um, not for a while. Maisie knew something was wrong, but it took me a couple weeks to come clean about it… My moms made me go to therapy for a while, too, but that didn't last.”

“Why did you wait so long to tell them?” Sam’s tone is gentle and genuine; he’s not judging her. He is simply trying his best to understand.

“I was just… so confused, for a really long time. And then I got angry, at him, at everyone at the party… at myself.” Harper glances away, trying to control the anger that is starting to bubble up again.

“You're still mad…” Sam points out.

“Yeah, talking about it just reminds me of what it was like, and I feel like I experience it all over again… This is why I don't like talking about my shit,  _ ever _ .” 

Another silence falls between them, as Sam tries to figure out what to say. Saying sorry didn't seem to cover how he felt, too generic and insincere. Anyone would say that.

“I don't know what to say, Harper,” he admits. 

“Nobody does…” She stares down at her hands, unclenching and clenching her fists repeatedly as her anxiety takes over.

“It doesn't change the way I feel about you,” Sam reassures, surprising her. Harper looks up at him, confusion and hope mingling in her face.

“You still-- why?” Her tone turns defensive; everything feels like it changes after she tells someone.

“‘Cause what happened to you doesn't define who you are now. I'm sure that experience changed you in a lot of ways, and I wish you never had to go through that. But look at you now,” Sam gestures to her. “You're one of the toughest, most badass hunters I know. You don't let anyone push you around, you know what you want.” Harper is in disbelief over his words, but her heart feels full despite herself.

Sam smiles at her. “And you care about people, your family, your friends, me.”

“Why do you get your own special category?” Harper teases a bit, feeling a small bit more relaxed after his confident assessment of her.

Sam nudges her playfully with his elbow before continuing, “In all seriousness, Harper, you've made it through so much shit, and you're still amazing, and caring, and badass. You've come out stronger than you were before, despite everything that's tried to bring you down.”

Harper doesn't know how to respond to his kind words, instead she plants a quick kiss on his lips. Sam pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight.

“Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me, I know you're not the most open book.” Sam places a kiss on top of her head, happy to be holding her finally.

“You're too good for me,” Harper sighs into his chest.

“No, we’re just right for each other.” 

She smiles at that, feeling like the luckiest person in the world to have found someone as amazing and understand as Sam. Suddenly, she feels tired, as if talking had drained out the last bits of her energy.

“Can we go home now?” Harper asks, letting out a yawn.

“Yep, I'll drive.” 

They slowly get up, and Sam helps a sleepy Harper into the passenger seat before he jumps in, behind the steering wheel. Harper watches Sam as he drives, listening to the quiet music in the background and ignoring the beautiful night. Something in Sam’s posture has changed since they were in the bed of the truck; he looks frustrated.

Harper frowns. “You know that me freaking out isn't ‘cause of you, right? You're fine, just the situation reminded me of…”

Sam starts shaking his head in the middle of her sentence, causing her voice to fade out. “No, I mean... yes, I understand that.”

“Then, what's wrong?” Harper asks, feeling more awake due to the anxiety coursing through her. Did he change his mind about her already?

Sam glances at her; he stays silent for a moment, debating with himself as what to say. “It has nothing to do with what you told me, so don't worry about it, Harp. We’ll deal with it another day, you've gone through enough for today.”

Harper didn't want to let it go, but her dwindling energy makes it too difficult to fight him about it. “If you say so…” She goes quiet, wondering what is being left unsaid, but decides to change subjects regardless of her curiosity. “Can I sleep with you tonight? Like in the same bed, I mean.”

Sam grins at how Harper fumbles with the question. “Of course, you don't have to ask. My room is your room.” He reaches over and drops his hand on her thigh, earning a smile from Harper.

“Thanks.” He leaves his hand there as he drives, and without thinking, Harper adds, “I love you, Sam.”

Before she can try to backpedal from her admission, Sam squeezes her thigh. “I love you too, Harp.” 

Harper beams, and closes her eyes as her sleepiness gets the best of her. She lets out a happy sigh as she drifts into sleep, thinking how she couldn't imagine being with anyone else but Sam. 


	21. Every Family Has Their Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Make It Rain by Ed Sheeran
> 
> just a heads-up guys, in case anyone didn’t see the monthly update, we are going on hiatus after this chapter! We need to plan out the rest of the series and we are going to be quite busy during November and December. But don’t worry, you might be getting a mini chapter or two while we are on hiatus from the main storyline ;) -mara
> 
> Chapter 11, time for a plot twist! Have fun lol -Hope

* * *

 

“ _ I’m never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. Never gonna turn around and desert you _ .” The quiet hours of peaceful sleep Harper managed to find in Sam’s arms, are interrupted by Rick Astley’s infamous declaration of love. She slowly opens her eyes to find Sam staring at her, sleepy and confused. Harper can't help the small laugh that escapes her when she sees his expression. Turning over, she grabs her phone off the bedside table and answers without checking the caller.

“Hello?” Her voice crackles, sleep heavy in her tone; she clears her throat. Sam throws an arm around her, pulling her close; Harper can feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, his closeness distracting her from the phone call. 

“Harper, it’s Philip. Got something for you.” Philip’s stern voice rings over the line, effectively splitting her attention. Harper almost wishes Sam would release her.  _ Almost _ .

Absentmindedly, Harper starts tracing circles on Sam’s arm, causing a smile to take over his expression. “Whatcha got?”

“Got a hit on Nina’s van. She’s in town.”

Harper immediately sits up, pushing Sam off of her without any resistance on his part. “Shit, and of course, we aren't home…” Harper says mostly to herself, as she jumps out of bed and starts to slip back into yesterday’s black skinny jeans.

“Better get here quick then,” Philip replies. “I'll keep an eye out if she leaves.”

“Thanks, we'll get there as soon as we can.” Harper hangs up and throws her hair into a messy bun before turning to Sam. “Maisie and I gotta go… Nina’s back.” 

“Want Dean and I to come? We could help out,” Sam offers as he slips out of bed, heading toward his dresser for some clean clothes.

Harper looks thoughtful for a minute before nodding. “Never hurts to have back-up,” she says, but her agreement is more so for the reason of spending more time with Sam, than the desire to have some back-up. They probably could use it though, with Maisie still recovering from the djinn incident a few days ago. “I’ll grab Maisie, if you’ll grab Dean.”

Sam nods, before slipping a t-shirt over his head. Harper heads for the door while he pulls on a flannel layer, but a call in her direction halts her, hand heavy on the doorknob. “Hey, Harp?” Sam’s voice is gentle; Harper glances back at him, finding a small smile playing on his lips. “I love you.”

Harper doesn’t try to fight her smile, but she does have to fight the urge to roll her eyes. She says it one time, and it’s like she’s unleashed something in Sam. “Love you too, dumbass.” His laughter follows Harper as she pushes into the hallway, making a beeline for Maisie’s room.

“Time to get the fuck up, Mais.” Barging into the guest room her sister has been occupying, Harper flips on the lights only to find an unkempt, yet empty bed. Eyebrows drawn together in confusion, Harper stalks down the hall to Dean’s room on an uneasy hunch. Harper knocks hard on Dean’s door, waiting impatiently for only a few seconds before pushing the door open. She sighs in slight relief upon finding Dean’s bed Maisie-less, but doesn’t dwell long before continuing her search for her sister.

Harper finally finds Maisie, in the last place she thought to look, the library. Even more surprisingly is the way she finds her. Maisie is snuggled in a blanket on the couch, her feet propped up on Dean’s lap and Dean’s hand resting tentatively on her thigh. Both of their attention is focused on Maisie’s laptop, sitting on a small table in front of them, playing Harper’s top-secret, guilty pleasure,  _ The Vampire Academy _ .

“What the fuck, you almost died and  _ this _ is the first movie you watch?” Harper asks incredulously, but with a note of amusement. Maisie doesn’t even bother to look, only mumbling a comment defending her movie choices, while Dean tries to subtly move his hand from Maisie’s leg before Harper notices. Dean has no such luck however, as Harper sends him a pointed look, eyebrows raised. 

“Moving on from your poor movie choices,  _ or _ your method of torture, however you want to look at it. We have to go. Nina’s back in town.”

* * *

Going 90MPH, gravel flying, Harper races down the highway determined to beat Dean back to the Safehouse. Maisie, on the other hand, has another Winchester on her mind. 

“Sooo…” A cheesy grin spreads of Maisie’s face. “You and Sam, huh? You guys were up pretty late,” Maisie waggles her eyebrows suggestively. A slight blush appears on Harper’s cheeks, but she manages to keep a straight face.

“Yep, me and Sam. We were talking about Adrián,” Harper states, trying to stay nonchalant. Maisie’s smile suddenly drops. 

“Ah right, your favorite topic. Moving on then… But you and Sam are together now, right!?” Harper takes a moment before responding, not sure of the answer herself.

“I think so? The important thing is that we were finally honest with each other. I guess, I can stop trying to convince myself that I don’t love him since, you know, I told him I  _ do  _ love him and he said it back,” Harper shrugs. Maisie squeals in glee, trying to hug her sister from the side.

“Maisie, come on, I can’t afford to crash, I have got to beat Dean.” But Harper can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of her lips.

“Soooo…” Harper tries to take the attention off of her by copying her sister. “You and Dean, huh?” Harper smirks, raising an eyebrow at her. 

This time, a sly grin snakes its way onto Maisie’s face as she replies, “Oh no, he is going to suffer first.” 

Harper nods resolutely in agreement. “That’s my little sister,” Harper encourages, before they both burst into their best evil villain laughs. 

* * *

Incidentally, only a few miles behind Harper and Maisie, Sam, Dean, and Cas are talking about the girls in the Impala.

“So, Harper stayed in your room two nights in a row, huh?” Dean smirks at his little brother, who is busy rolling his eyes.

“Whatever, Dean, we just spent some time bonding,” Sam immediately cringes at his own word choice, knowing it will only egg Dean on further.

“Oh, I’m sure you did,” Dean chuckles.

“ _ No,  _ Dean, we were  _ just  _ talking,” Sam tries to deflect Dean’s ever dirty mind.

“Mmhhmm, what kind of talking, Sammy?” Dean raises his eyebrows relentlessly. 

“God, Dean, do you ever shut up? This is why Harper punched you and why Maisie’s gonna put you through hell before you get another chance with her,” Sam sasses, maybe a little too far, but Dean kind of deserves it.

* * *

Pulling into the police station, Sam and Harper hop out of her truck and head toward the double doors. Since Maisie and Dean came last time, it is Sam and Harper’s turn. Anxiety courses through Harper as they open the door; before leaving, Maisie reminded her of Danny, who deserves an explanation for Harper’s sudden absence in his life. Danny, although, is not at the front desk today, which relieves her of some anxiety for a moment.

Harper leads Sam over to Philip’s office, knocking before bursting through the door. “Philly, what do you have for us?”

“I would say it’s nice to see you, but I’d be lying,” Philip frowns slightly at her, not bothering to stand up to greet the pair.

“You know you love me,” Harper grins. “This is Sam, by the way.”

Sam holds out his hand to Philip, who stares at him for moment before accepting the gesture. “It’s nice to meet you, Detective,” Sam says respectfully. “Thanks for helping the girls out.”

“Hmph.” Philip stands up then, heading out of his office with Sam and Harper following. “I set up this computer out here for you to check through traffic cameras for your suspect, that way you’re not taking over  _ my _ office.” He quickly logs onto a computer in the open office space, sets up the traffic camera program, and starts heading back toward his office. “Here’s your starting point,” Philip says, handing Harper a sticky note with a time and road name on it. “If you need help with it, ask Danny.”

“I’m sure we can figure it out ourselves. Thanks Philip, you’re the best,” Harper says to his back, a strained smile on her face. Philip responds with a wave of his hand, then disappears behind closed doors.

Sam gestures for Harper to take the computer chair. She plops down, taking point on the figuring out the program, which she quickly gets the hang of. Sam stands behind her, leaning close to her and pointing out things as they search through the traffic camera footage from earlier that morning, when Nina arrived. They follow Nina’s van through the footage, trying to figure out where she could be now. 

After what feels like eternity to Harper, Nina’s location is narrowed down to a back road close to town, that is home to only one building: an abandoned barn. Sam scribbles down the address quickly, and they start heading back to the front doors. 

Harper slows down, stopping a few feet short of the exit; she has unfinished business here. “I’ve gotta talk to Danny.” She looks over to Sam, who has a hand on the door handle.

He gives her a questioning look. “Danny?”

“Um, yeah. Went out with him before, you know…” Harper gestures between the two of them. “We happened.”

Sam looks a little amused by the last bit. “And what happened with us, Harper?”

She shakes her head at him. “We can talk what we are later, but I need to talk to Danny real quick.” As Harper begins to hand him the keys to her truck, Danny seems to appear out of thin air.

“What do you need to talk to me about?” Danny glances between the two of them, Harper seeming to freeze at the sound of his voice.

Sam shrugs, taking the keys out of her hand. “I could make a guess, but it’s not my place.” Giving Danny a tight smile, Sam offers a hand. “I’m Sam. I work with Harper.”

Danny shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you. I think Harper mentioned you before?”

“Yeah,” Harper finally finds her voice. “Sam was that college friend I talked about awhile back.” She turns to Sam. “Will you go start the truck… now, please?”

“Sure thing. Nice meeting you, Danny.” Sam gives them both a smile before heading out the door.

Harper and Danny stand in silence for a minute, as she tries to put her thoughts together. “I’m sorry about ignoring you recently. Been a lot going on, but that doesn’t excuse me being a shitty person to you.” Harper starts, deciding to stare at the floor while she talks. “I just… found someone I never thought I’d see again.” At that, she glances toward the door, and Danny notices, a twinge of sadness striking him.

“Did that someone else just walk out those doors?” He asks, trying to keep his tone nonchalant and aloof, but Harper picks up on the underlying dejection there.

Taking a deep breath, she looks him in the eye as she replies, “Yeah, he did. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, and I hope that… I don’t know, that we can go back to normal, or some shit.”

“We only went on one date, Harper. Plus we’re adults, we can handle this maturely. Thanks for telling me, so I’m not left wondering.” Danny crosses his arms over his chest, nodding toward the door. “Now, go on. Can’t leave Sam waiting.”

Harper gives him a small smile. “You’re a good guy, Danny.”

“Just not the right guy, huh?” He smiles sadly at her.

She shakes her head. “Not for me… But hopefully I’ll see you around here?”

Danny nods curtly. “Well, I do  _ work  _ here.” Harper gives him an awkward nod and a weak attempt at a wave, before heading out the door toward her truck and a waiting Sam.

* * *

The ride back to the Safehouse is spent mostly in silence, Harper’s mind focused on thoughts consisting of guilt over Danny and foreboding over facing Nina once again. Sam tries to get Harper to talk, but when his attempts prove futile, he settles for simply grabbing her hand, letting her know he’s here, the best way he knows how with Harper. 

As the Safehouse comes into view, Harper finally finds something to say. “I don’t want Maisie to come with us.” 

It’s Sam’s turn to remain silent, waiting until they’re parked in the driveway to turn and give Harper his full attention.

“I get your concern, I do. But you know, as well as I do, how well that’s going to go down with her, Harp.” Harper’s only response is to let her head fall back against the headrest and groan in frustration. Sam squeezes her hand sympathetically.

“It will be fine, Harper, there’s all four of us going in together and we won’t underestimate her this time,” Sam tries to assuage Harper’s anxiety. 

“Fine. But I’m not leaving her side,” Harper states.

“And I’m not leaving yours,” Sam says reassuringly. 

“That’s impractical,” Harper retorts with unimpressed frown before exiting the truck. All Sam can do is laugh off her rejection seeing that she is right, in all honesty, while also noting the irony of her statement. 

Opening the door, Harper enters the Safehouse to find Maisie quickly jumping up from her spot on the couch next to Dean. She looks to Harper with a wicked grin and a wink, before heading to the kitchen. 

“Dammit!” Dean tries to mutter to himself, but it carries enough for Sam to give him a questioning look as he comes in behind Harper.

“I’m sorry?” Sam puzzles.

“I’m not.” Harper can’t help but smirk at Dean’s frustration. Incidentally, when Maisie re-enters the living room, Harper’s mind is abruptly brought back to the mission at hand.

“We think we know where Nina should be.” Harper pauses for a moment, as if waiting for something. “So… Dean, get your ass off the couch and everyone else, get your shit together. Let’s finish this, once and for all... ” 

“Great pep talk, sis, I like the dramatic conclusion,” Maisie responds sarcastically, while Dean just sulks in the background, wondering why he had to get called out. Harper actively ignores them both.

* * *

Harper’s foot is heavy on the gas; her truck, closely followed by the Impala, navigates the unknown curves of the old back road. The setting sun casts an orange glow on their surroundings, making everything seem ablaze. Coming around the last bend, the abandoned barn looms dead ahead. The shadow cast by the faded building stretches out towards them, sending them into darkness as they pull onto the dirt path leading to their destination.

Suddenly, images of another burning barn, eerily similar to the one in front of Harper, come unbidden to her consciousness. The heat. The smoke. The screams. The night she and Maisie were taken from their parents and their lives of normalcy. All comes rushing back. Harper’s foot drops like a brick on the break, sending dust and rocks flying in all directions. Dean barely manages to stop the Impala before it collides with Harper’s truck.

Concern riddles Maisie’s face, staring down her sister’s pale expression and oddly motionless form; the only movement is Harper’s grip on the steering wheel tightening until her knuckles turn white. A silence stretches out between them for several minutes, Maisie waiting for Harper to explain herself.

“Harper?” Maisie asks tentatively. When Harper makes no sound or move to answer, Maisie continues to press. “Harper, listen to me, you have to breathe. Please, Harper. Five... Four... Three... Two... One...” Maisie counts slowly, trying to remind Harper of the grounding technique they use in situations like this.

Maisie notices that Harper finally takes a deep breathe, then Harper is trying to say something. Her mouth moves but no words come out at the first attempt. 

“We can’t…” Harper breathes out, barely a whisper of sound escaping her lips.

“We can’t what?” Maisie asks after Harper goes silent for a bit too long. 

“Can’t go in. It’s…” 

Harper’s anxiety make it hard to breath, let alone complete a whole sentence. She swallows heavily, trying to force the words out, but before she gets a chance, Sam is opening her truck door. His expression is heavy with concern and confusion, his eyes scanning Harper for injury.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks, noting her pale face and shaky breathing. Harper doesn’t look at him, afraid that she’ll break down even further if she does. “Harper?” His voice is quiet, filled with a palpable worry. “Look at me,  _ please _ .”

Harper turns her head slowly, gazing at him with a blank stare; only a child-like fear can be seen in her sapphire eyes. Maisie throws the truck into park and turns it off, while Sam attempts to get Harper out of the driver’s seat. Maisie helps Sam unbuckle Harper, then he tugs gently on her arm until she slides out of the truck.

“Just focus on me,” Sam says, and Harper does her best to follow his suggestion. She watches him; the way he helps her out of the truck, the way his shoulders are heavy with concern. When her feet hit the ground, Harper seems to liven up a bit more. Slowly but surely, her breathing starts to return to normal, and the anxiety begins to lift slightly. 

“Sorry, I was just… lost in my head.” Despite the panic its sight caused, Harper gains the courage to look at the barn.  _ It is similar but not the same _ , she thinks, attempting to convince herself to calm down in the shadow of this grisly reminder.

“What was it about?” Maisie asks as she appears by her sister’s side with Dean in tow.

Harper glances between the three of them, curious and concerned, as she tries to formulate an explanation; she only manages to let out a few failed attempts. When she can’t explain herself, Harper groans in frustration and drops her head onto Sam’s chest. 

Sam rubs her back briefly before she stands up straight once again. “We can talk about it later, okay?” Sam suggests.

Dean nods. “Sam's right. We got a job to do. This can wait.” Harper throws a nervous glance at the building, but agrees. 

Together, armed, and mostly ready, the Winchester’s and Raven’s start their trek to the faded barn as the sun sets in the horizon. Maisie and Dean take the lead, and as Maisie gets closer and closer to the ever-looming barn, Harper feels a twinge of panic that spurs her forward. Her desire to protect Maisie overrides the crippling anxiety that kept her frozen with fear. 

Maisie grips the handle of her whip, determination driving her every step as she leads the way. She is ready to end Nina and the threat to her family, whatever it takes. Closing in on the barn doors, Maisie reaches for the door, and they all prepare to enter. All except Dean, who speaks up as the voice of reason.

“Wait. I’m going to check the perimeter, make sure there’s no alternate escape routes so we don’t repeat last time.” Maisie retracts her hand and nods. 

“I’ll take one side, you take the other, Sam,” Dean directs, and the brothers take off on either side of the barn with their machetes raised.

The girls wait in palpable silence for a few minutes, Maisie tapping her foot impatiently, while keeping her free hand rested on her thigh sheath. Harper checks her own weapon several, unnecessary times, trying to keep her mind on the mission. 

“Why did you say we can’t go in? You never want to avoid a fight,” Maisie abruptly breaks the silence with her query. Harper avoids her gaze for a long moment, searching for something, anything, to try and explain it away. All the excuses she comes up with seem feeble, and she almost decides she cannot lie to her sister any longer.

She drags her eyes up to meet Maisie’s, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she fights within herself.  ‘ _ Maybe something close enough to the truth would be okay, at least until this is all over? _ ’ She wonders to herself. However, just as she opens her mouth to form an answer, Sam and Dean appear from the side of the barn. 

“All clear, this is the only way in or out of here,” Dean informs them. 

“Okie dokie, ye merry band of misfits, let’s kill some fucking vamps,” Maisie quips lowly, looking at each of them shortly and nodding resolutely. 

Machetes unsheathed and Maisie’s whip poised, Maisie and Harper carefully push on the doors until they swing inward. Their first steps into the vampires’ den are cautious, as they take in their surroundings, searching for signs of Nina or any of her nest. They make it to the center of the barn, when suddenly the doors to the barn clang shut. 

“I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.” Nina’s honey-like voice rings out through the shadows, seeming to surround them. The sisters and the Winchesters all stand back-to-back, every angle covered by one of them. “It’s not nice to leave a girl waiting,” Nina adds.

“Then come on out so I don’t have to wait any longer to kill you. Just like I did your brother,” Maisie challenges. Suddenly, Nina appears mere feet away from Maisie, a scowl on her face.

“You’ll pay for what you did to him,” Nina threatens, and one after another, four other vampires surround them all. Harper and the Winchester’s begrudgingly train their aim on the others. Sam takes on the closest two vamps, while Dean and Harper head for the others, hoping to finish them off quickly and be ready to aide Sam and Maisie.

Maisie is left to face Nina; they circle each other, waiting. Maisie makes the first move, lashing her whip out in the blink of an eye, but Nina catches it with one hand. 

“Have I got a surprise for you.” Donning a malevolent smile, Nina wraps the whip around her arm and jerks it towards her. Ignoring Nina’s attempt at playing games, Maisie lets the handle of her whip slip from her grasp, already yanking her machete out of its sheath and launching herself at Nina. Nina barely ducks in time, landing in a crouch before kicking at Maisie’s legs. Momentarily knocked on her ass, Maisie uses her vantage to kick Nina in the face with both legs, before regaining her machete and jumping to her feet. Nina is back on her in seconds, but Maisie has the machete between them, both trying to fight for the upper hand.

On the other side of the barn, Harper has managed to off her first vamp and rushes to Sam’s side. Dean has managed to only get knocked on his ass twice, but he uses the second time to roll behind a stack of hay and lay in wait for the vampire. As soon as he comes into view, Dean kicks a bale of hay at him, and uses the momentary chaos to get in a clean sweep with his machete. Running to check on the others, Dean sees that Sam and Harper are holding their own, side by side. 

However when he looks to Maisie, he sees that Nina is gaining the upper hand, knocking Maisies machete from her grasp. Before Maisie can make a move, Nina grabs a fistful of her ponytail and yanks her head to the side, eyeing her wide-open neck. 

“Maisie! No!” Dean yells, making a beeline for her. Dean’s cry for Maisie catches Harper off guard just as she is bringing her machete down on her adversary’s neck. She hacks the vampire’s head from its body before doing a complete three-sixty, frantically looking for her sister. 

Harper’s eyes go wide at the sight of her sister struggling at the mercy of Nina and her hunger, knowing Dean has mere seconds to get to her. 

“Stop, Nina, I’m begging you.” All of a sudden, a new voice calls out, stopping everyone in their tracks. Harper vaguely recognizes the thud of a body hitting the ground behind her, before Sam is by her side again.

“Why should I, Benson? She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” Nina growls. Through the curtain of shadows steps a ruggedly handsome man, looking hardly older than Dean, though Dean had an inch or so on the stranger. A look of pure concern covers his features as he slowly approaches Nina and Maisie with pleading eyes.

“Nina, she’s family…” The man trails off, training his eyes on Maisie now. Maisie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and disbelief. Harper’s heart skips several beats, before pounding painfully in her chest. “She’s my only daughter,” he finishes in a haunting whisper that carries to each of them. 

Maisie’s eyes bore through this man claiming to be her father, and all she can see is herself in his eyes. A foggy memory of these same, viridescent eyes, surrounded by flames, watching her being carried away as a screaming five year old, flashes through her mind. 

“D-daddy?” Her lips part, and she exhales heavily. 

“This can’t be happening.” Harper covers her mouth, shaking her head in denial. Sam slowly drags his eyes from the confusing scene in front of him to stare at Harper. She didn’t look or sound surprised by this revelation. This was the secret Harper had been keeping. This is what she wouldn’t talk to him about and what she “couldn’t tell Maisie”. This is why she was so anxious she couldn’t sleep. She knew. For months.

“What in the fucking hell,” Dean declared lowly. He was by far, the most confused one in the building. He looks from Maisie to her so-called-dad, and back again, then to Sam and Harper, who wouldn’t look his way. 

“Sunflower,” Maisie’s dad finally says softly in response, and Maisie  _ knows _ , it is him. He tries to take a step forward, but Nina grips Maisie’s throat threateningly.

“Take your hands off of my daughter,” the man demands gruffly. Nina laughs, tightening her grip, her fingernails digging into Maisie’s skin.

“Not so fast, Peter, I’m not done with her,” Nina spits his name out like poison. Maisie struggles to breath as her father and Nina stare one another down. 

“Yea, you are, bitch.” Harper’s words ring in Nina’s ears, the last words she’ll ever hear, before her head is savagely disconnected from her body. Maisie falls to her knees, coughing and gasping for air. Peter smirks, with a glint in his eyes, before he covers it once more with concern as he rushes to Maisie’s side, followed by Harper and the Winchester’s close behind.

“Hey, stay back! How are we supposed to know you’re who you say you are?” Dean barks, grabbing Peter’s collar and dragging him away from Maisie. 

“Maisie Noelle Benson… now, Raven. Born December 24th, 1986, outside of Henderson, Las Vegas. You have a birthmark on your left ankle in the shape of a flower. I always thought it was a sunflower.” Peter rambles out one fact after the other, eyes only for Maisie. Harper makes sure Maisie is breathing and okay, before she hugs her tightly, mumbling apologies; she stands up to face Peter herself while Maisie continues to recover.

“You could have easily gotten that from Maisie’s journals. We know that’s what Nina stole from the Safehouse. Which I’m sure you put her up to,” Harper accuses. Peter shakes his head vehemently. 

“No, no. I didn’t put her up to anything. I didn’t want any of this, I just wanted my daughter back, but she found me out,” Peter tries to defend himself. Harper crosses her arms, unimpressed, but Maisie, finding her balance, pushes past Harper.

“You- you look exactly the same,” Maisie chokes out, reaching out to touch him, but Harper speaks up, causing Maisie to retract her hand. 

“He’s a vampire, Mais.” Maisie takes a step back, breathing hard. 

“It wasn’t my choice, sunflower, I’m not like that monster,” Peter pleads with his daughter, jerking his head toward the decapitated Nina. Maisie’s lip quivers, caught between wanting to believe her dad and every instinct her training as a hunter has given her. Harper steps between Maisie and Peter, knowing her sisters’ painful conflict. 

“Our mom told me what you did, what you all did. You’re not going to fool me with your poor victim act,” Harper reassures him quietly, hoping Maisie will just trust her, but something in Harper’s statement catches Maisie’s attention.

“You knew?” Maisie whispers at first, the conflict in her eyes slowly turning into anger. Harper turns her back on Peter to face Maisie. 

“Maisie, I--” Harper starts to try and reason, but Maisie interrupts.

“You  _ knew _ !? You knew that my father was alive  _ and  _ a vampire? And you fucking kept it from me!? You just sat on that fucking truth bomb!?” Maisie’s voice rises as does the fire in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry! When Momma Q told me, she said I shouldn’t tell you and it freaked me the fuck out. I mean,  _ my  _ parents were fucking vampires, too. And I just wanted to protect you.” Harper’s voice is small compared to her sister’s ranting, and Maisie wasn’t done, running her fingers through her hair and finding purchase for something to hold on to.

“Momma Q, too? So you  _ both _ decided to keep the biggest thing about my past, my  _ family _ , from me? You do  _ not  _ get to decide what  _ is _ , and what is  _ not _ , good for me!” Maisie continues to berate Harper, her explanation doing nothing to abate Maisie’s anger.

“That’s fucked up,” Dean mutters, and Sam gives him a mix between his ‘really man?’ face, and his bitch face. 

“I just- I’m your family too, Maisie,” Harper tries again weakly, but Maisie narrows her eyes at her, both girls completely oblivious to either of the brothers.

“Just stop.” Maisie wants nothing to do with Harper’s feeble excuses, despite knowing deep down, that Harper was already beating herself up over this.

“What do you want me to do, Maisie? I’m sorry,” Harper begs, wanting to waste no time trying to make up for this.

“I think you should just go,” Maisie snaps, shaking her head. Harper opens her mouth to protest, or form another apology, but she clamps her mouth shut again seeing the fury on Maisie’s face. Feeling hot tears start to sting her eyes, Harper quickly turns away from all the eyes trained on her and strides out of the barn. 

Sam’s own frustration at Harper’s inability to ever open up on her own accord, keeps him rooted to his spot, but only for a matter of seconds. Sighing, he turns to Dean.

“I have to go with her. She shouldn’t be alone right now,” Sam explains, and Dean nods in understanding, the brothers passing a silent communication between themselves. Sam gives Maisie an apologetic look in passing as he takes off after Harper.

“You have something you want to say, get it out now,” Maisie flicks her gaze to Dean. 

“Whatever you need, Mais, I’m not going anywhere.” Maisie’s eyes start to soften, nodding in thanks. She steps closer to Peter, hesitantly reaching forward to touch his cheek. Peter smiles softly, leaning into her touch. 

“He’s coming home with us,” Maisie states. Dean sighs, eyeing Peter, while still clutching his collar.

“You sure about this?” Dean asks, looking to Maisie now and holding her gaze for a long minute. 

“Yes. He already already knows where the Safehouse is, anyway. I can’t walk away without giving him a chance,” Maisie replies without hesitation. Overlooking his own uncertainty for the time being, Dean nods and releases Peter. Dean, then, sets off leading the way to the Impala, while making sure to keep Maisie close by. He might be willing to trust Maisie in giving her long-lost-father a chance, but he sure as hell is not going to take his eyes off of either of them any time soon. 

The ride back to the Safehouse seemed to take twice as long, the air in the Impala bursting with unspoken words and unanswered questions. Once they finally make it back, Maisie leads Peter into her home, a hundred different emotions weighing down Maisie’s every step. 

Piper and Cas are instantly on their feet, coming to greet Maisie and Dean. The obvious question is written on their faces as they lay eyes on Peter. 

“Piper, Cas, this is my… Dad,” Maisie says but offers no other explanation, diving right into sleeping arrangements. “Dad.. you can take the guest room. Piper, you can sleep in Harper’s room, she won’t be back tonight.” 

Piper looks stricken, opening her mouth to ask the most pressing question out of all the ones filling her mind. Maisie rushes to assuage her fears, however. “No, she’s not dead. She’s… with Sam.” Piper still looks very confused, but nods, sensing now is not the time to bombard Maisie with her questions.

Showing Peter to the guest room, Maisie can’t help but look him up and down, still taking in the shocking sight of him. He catches her eyes on him and steps close. 

“I know, it will take some time getting used to, but I plan on taking all the time I need,” Peter defuses, looking excited about the prospect. Maisie nods, lost for words after all of the overwhelming events of the night. Impulsively closing the distance between them, Maisie wraps her arms around Peter, the action immediately reciprocated. 

“I think we should all get some rest,” Peter suggests, pulling away from her embrace gradually. Maisie wraps her arms around herself now, expressing her agreement as she exits the room. 

“Goodnight, dad,” Maisie utters, before closing the door behind her. She turns and bumps right into Cas, stationed next to  the doorframe. 

“I will keep an eye on him,” Cas assures Maisie. She smiles, mumbling an absentminded thank you, on her way to her own room. She makes it up the stairs, ready to curl into her bed, but as she swings the bedroom door shut, a hand appears to stop it. 

“I’m sure you don’t want to talk right now, just tell me, on a scale from one to whiskey, how not okay are you?” Dean asks lightly, but he can’t cover the concern in his voice. 

“Make it a double whiskey,” Maisie replies simply, with a weak, humorless laugh. Dean gives her an understanding nod.

“Coming right up.” Dean turns to go, but this time it’s Maisie’s turn to stop him, placing a hand on his arm. 

“Dean?” Maisie says his name like a prayer, and his eyes are instantly on her again, ready to answer it. “Stay,” she breathes, her voice almost breaking on the one, simple word. 

“Always,” Dean promises without a second thought. 


	22. Heavy Hearts Create Leaden Tongues (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Machine by Amber Run
> 
> this takes place right after Harper leaves at the end of Ch 11! Enjoy the angst :p -mara

* * *

Harper climbs into the driver’s seat of her truck, slamming the door behind her, but doesn’t make a move to pull away from the abandoned barn. Maisie’s last words are still ringing in Harper’s ears. _I think you should just leave_. Closing her eyes, Harper tries to keep her angry tears at bay, taking deep breathes and gripping the steering wheel tightly. Her moment of silence is interrupted, when Sam swings open the passenger side door and hops into the truck.

“Get the hell out,” Harper says, unable to keep the anger and hurt from her tone.

Sam shakes his head, buckling himself in. “No, I’m staying.”

Harper glares at him, wanting to be alone to process everything that has happened tonight. “Whatever,” she grumbles before starting up the truck and swerving out onto the dirt road.

Silence radiates through the truck, unvoiced thoughts and feelings building the tension between the couple. Sam gives Harper the space she needs, despite his own frustration that needs answers which only she can provide. Harper, on the other hand, tries to calm herself down, but can’t help the dread she feels over the soon-to-be conversation with Sam. She can tell he’s keeping quiet about something, and isn’t looking forward to its unveiling.

After twenty minutes of driving down backroads, Sam finally speaks up. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere, but home, I guess,” Harper replies, a mix of uncertainty and anger in her tone.

They both go silent again, watching the night roll by, each lost in their own thoughts. Harper tries to focus on driving, but her mind finds its way back to Maisie, wishing she would have told Maisie about her father. It’s her own fault that Maisie is so mad at her; Harper lets the blame settle in, reprimanding herself as the miles stretch out between her and her sister.

Sam can’t seem to shake his thoughts of doubt about his relationship with Harper. She doesn’t let anyone in, not unless the situation demands it, and he finds this incredibly frustrating. Does she not trust him? Or anyone, for that matter? This isn’t going to work out between them if she can’t confide in him.

“Why didn’t you--” Sam starts to voice his questions finally, but Harper is quick to end it before they can even begin.

“Stop. Sam. I don’t want to talk about it.” Harper’s grip tightens on the steering wheel; she doesn’t want him to voice his disappointment in her as well.

“We need to talk about it,” Sam presses, looking over at her, tension coursing through her body.

Harper shakes her head. “I’m not talking about this now. I’m driving,” she says, using the first, albeit weak, excuse that comes to mind.

“Then, pull over.”

“ _No_ ,” Harper responds firmly, her eyes staying on the road.

“Harper, we need to talk.” Sam frowns at her, matching her stubbornness for once.

“Can’t this fucking wait?” She groans.

“No, it can’t.” Sam shifts in his seat, trying to face her as best he can in the space of passenger seat. Frowning, Harper doesn’t respond, her knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about your parents or Maisie’s?” Sam asks, after it’s crystal clear that Harper isn’t going to object again.

“I don’t know, Sam. Why do _you_ think I didn’t?” Harper redirects, making this conversation more difficult than it needs to be.

Sam sighs. “I honestly don’t know, Harp. It’s probably for the same reason you don’t tell anyone _anything_ , unless you’re forced to.”

“Name _one_ time that has been true,” Harper defiantly demands.

“I can name three, Harper. And that’s only in the last _week_.” Sam gives her a pointed look, which she actively ignores. “There’s your nightmares, telling me you’re in love with me, and Adrián… I just-- I don’t get it. Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you,” she replies quietly, still processing his assertion and realizing he’s right. She does keep everything to herself, unless a situation demands for the truth.

“Then why keep it all secret?” Sam asks, frustration and confusion heavy in his tone. “Please, explain this to me. I want to help but I can’t if I don’t understand.”

“I just-- I don’t…” Harper trails off, trying to find the right words. It takes her moment to figure out how to explain herself, remember something she told Sam when admitting she was in love with him. “If I say it, then it becomes real…”

“It’s real, whether or not you talk about it, Harp,” Sam reasons.

Harper shakes her head. “No, it’s not. I don’t have to… face it, if no one else knows. I can just _ignore_ it.”

Sam lets out an exasperated sigh. “That’s not healthy, Harp. Maybe _this_ is why you’re having nightmares, you don’t deal with any of your problems.”

Harper goes quiet; she doesn’t like his tone, accusing and frustrated, all directed at her. His statement struck a chord in her, that stirs an anger toward herself. _Yeah, maybe if I wasn’t such a fuck-up, we wouldn’t be here_ , she thinks.

“Sounds like you got me all figured out, Winchester,” Harper tensely responds after a minute of self-deprecating silence.

Sam sighs, knowing full well that Harper is done with talking for now, simply by the tone of her voice. “I’m not trying to fight about this, really. I’m just frustrated.”

“Yeah, with me.” Harper’s expression is hard to read. “I’m sorry I’m such a fuck-up.”

“You’re not a fuck-up.”

“Clearly, I am, you just gave me a whole fucking list of how much of a fuck-up I am! And you didn’t even include the latest addition: the secret life of Maisie’s vampire dad. And why the hell did you even come with me? Just to tell me how shitty I am? Because I tell myself that plenty, I don’t need you to tell me, too.” Once Harper starts talking, it’s hard for her to stop, letting her own frustration with herself be vented; Sam is stunned into silence at her words.

“Also,” Harper continues after a brief pause to catch her breath, “not every secret told has been forced, okay? I didn’t _have_ to tell you ‘I love you,’ but I did, anyway! Imagine that, me actually talking about my feelings without being fucking pushed into it! It’s a fucking miracle, isn’t it?” Having said her fill, Harper goes back to quietly sulking and trying to distract herself with the empty backroads.

Sam, however, is not done talking. “I came because you need me, and because I want to fix this between us, instead of letting it fester,” he says gently, trying to curb her anger.

“Well, then what the fuck do you want from me, Sam?” Her tone is no longer angry; she simply sounds exhausted, as if the never-ending day has finally caught up with her.

“I just want you to be honest with me, I’m not asking you to tell me all your secrets. I just…” He lets out a sigh. “I want you to _try_ confiding in me every now and then. I’m here for you, Harper”

His request is only met with the sound of the truck’s engine.

She glances over at him finally, noting the turmoil in his expression; she hates to see the hurt written on his face. “I’m sorry for yelling, I’m not mad at you...” Harper says quietly after a moment passes, her hands relaxing on the steering wheel finally. “And you’re right... I’ll try, okay? It’s just… hard to talk about shit.”

Sam nods solemnly. “I know… I’m just worried about you, and it frustrates me that I can’t help. I just want to help you. And, _I’m_ sorry if I came across angry at you.”

“Well, thanks for trying to care of me, even when my stubborn ass doesn’t want you to.” Harper gives Sam a little smile, before her eyes drift back to the empty road. A yawn escapes her, as she starts to feel the exhaustion from fighting vampires and keeping secrets.

“How about I drive for a bit?” Sam suggest, a soft, caring look on his face.

Harper nods. “Sure, but that’s enough of you trying to take care of me today,” she jokes, and Sam smiles at her.

“Good thing today is almost over,” he quips, gesturing to the digital clock on the dashboard.

“Damn, you found a loophole.” Harper can’t help the smile that blooms on her face at Sam’s soft laughter; at that sound, she knows everything will be okay between them.

Although his laughter dies down, a smile remains behind. “You know, I love you, right, Harper?”

She glances over at him shyly as she pulls the truck over to the side of the road and puts it into park. “I know… I love you, too, Sam.”

They both hop out of the truck to switch seats and meet halfway, in front of the illumination of the headlights. Before she gets a chance to pass by him, Sam pulls Harper into his arms for a brief moment, letting her know that he’ll always be here for her even when they don’t see eye-to-eye.

“I’m sorry about your parents, Harp. Can’t imagine what that is like…” Sam mumbles as he holds her. Harper allows herself to melt into him, finding comfort in his strong arms and ignoring his loaded comment. Pulling away, Sam cups Harper’s face with his hands and places a soft kiss on her lips. Harper closes her eyes and lets her worries slip away, if only for a single moment, simply reveling in the comfort that Sam’s touch brings.

Once back in the truck and driving down the open road, Harper speaks up about it. “At first, I didn’t know what to think… About my parents being vampires, I mean. It’s like… The memories that I have with them are all lies. It’s like losing them all over again... and losing a part of myself.” She pauses. “I didn’t want Maisie to know what that felt like. It fucking sucks,” Harper adds quietly, barely audible over Sam’s hushed music.

Leaving one hand on the wheel, Sam reaches over, takes Harper’s hand in his, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Maisie will forgive you eventually.”

“Yeah, _eventually_.” Harper mumbles, trying to find a comfortable position in the passenger seat. “Who knows how long that’ll fucking take…”

“I guess you’ll just have to settle for hanging out with me for the time being, then,” Sam offers, jokingly.

Harper scoffs slightly and closes her eyes, ready for sleep to push away her overabundance of burdensome thoughts. “I’d hardly call that / _settling_ /.”

Sam breaks out into a grin at that. “Well, I’m glad that you think hanging out with your boyfriend isn’t a lesser option.”

Harper’s eyes shoot open, her mouth going dry. “Boyfriend? We haven’t even gone on a real date yet.”

Sam throws her a look, as if wondering why the hell he would call her anything less than his girlfriend at this point. “We’ve already said ‘I love you,’ Harp. Plus it’s not like we’ve really had time recently.”

“We have time, now.” Harper gives him a sad, sleepy smile; he squeeze her hand in response.

“Get some sleep, Harper. We can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” Sam suggest, when he sees how tired she is.

They exchange good-nights, letting the hushed music soothe the silence between them. Harper tries to focus on that as she attempts to sleep. Her thoughts refuse to quiet down though, guilt and anger running high as she thinks back to Maisie; hoping someday soon, her sister will hear her out and forgive her for the mess she made. Maybe some time on the road with Sam will help Harper open up more and give Maisie the space she needs. Maybe things can get better with a little bit of time. 


	23. Something Like Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Try by P!nk  
> A/N: a nice family dinner? Well what could possibly go wrong, right?

* * *

 

“Sam and Harper just finished up another hunt. Oregon this time. Sam says Portland is definitely as weird as they say. Weirder probably,” Dean states as Maisie re-enters her bedroom, making her way over to him. He attempts to sound nonchalant, but eyes Maisie to gauge her reaction. 

Maisie nods and simply hands Dean a cup of freshly-made hot chocolate, taking a seat beside him on her bed. Gandalf finally retires from his guard post by the door, following Maisie to the bed and jumping up beside her.

“Piper told me already. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were conspiring together.” Maisie raises an eyebrow at Dean. 

“Oh yeah, it’s one big conspiracy, making sure you know your sister is alive since you haven’t seen, or even spoken to her in a month,” Dean retorts, dripping sarcasm. Maisie goes quiet again, taking a sip of her own hot chocolate. He sighs, setting down his cup before reaching out to put a hand on Maisie’s thigh. 

“I just… Friends don’t lie,” Maisie finally speaks up, but resorts to a  _ Stranger Things  _ quote when she can’t find the words to express her disappointment in her sister anymore. 

“Okay, first, it’s been weeks, can we cool it with the  _ Stranger Things _ references?” Dean starts, sounding somewhat exasperated. Maisie gives a small pout, but Dean quickly rushes on to his main point. “Secondly, she’s  _ family _ and sometimes family gets fucked up. But just because they do fucked up shit, doesn’t mean they were trying to fuck you up. You gotta know they only want the best for you. Harper only wants the best for you.” Dean finishes, looking at Maisie intently until she finally meets his gaze.

“The ends don’t justify the means, Dean. I know Harper wants the best for me, she’s always tried to look out for me. But she doesn’t get to decide what’s best for me, I’m not a little girl and I’m tired of her always keeping things to herself. Being apart of a family means being there to work through things together, not hiding them!” Maisie argues. 

Dean runs a hand over his face, trying to stay calm having finally gotten Maisie to discuss the ordeal with Harper again. Maisie isn’t the one to avoid her feelings, but she felt she had already said her piece to Harper that night in the barn; she didn’t see the point in rehashing the point.

“Maisie, how are you going to work through anything if you’re keeping Harper at bay? She won’t even come home to visit Neptune,” Dean tries reasoning. 

“I didn’t tell her she couldn’t come home,” Maisie mumbles, sounding almost regretful remembering her last words to Harper.

“Well, telling her she should go couldn’t have made her feel very welcome to come back.” Maisie closes her eyes, Dean’s hard, but true words driving her regret home. “Look, I’m not saying you don’t have the right to be angry, to feel hurt. But I know you, babe, you love more than you hate, and you want everyone else to feel that. I know you’ve got to be thinking about how Harper is beating herself up over this.” Dean surprises himself at how hard he’s defending Harper. But he knows from his own relationship with his brother, how important Harper and Maisie are to each other. He hates seeing Maisie have to go through this separation as much as he always hated being separated from Sam.

“Well, she wouldn’t have to beat herself up about it if she had just been honest with me,” Maisie replies, although the conviction in her voice starts to drain. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Dean shrugs. “But she can’t take it back now, all she can do is try to do better by you. She can’t do that unless you let her know you’re willing to try with her. Are you?” Dean finishes, leaving his query in the air. He doesn’t push her to answer right away, rubbing soft circles on her skin. Maisie takes a deep breath, thinking back to that night in the barn; she pushes past her own pain and remembers the tortured look on her sister’s face as she begged Maisie to forgive her. 

“I-- I think I can try,” Maisie finally concedes. Meeting Dean’s gaze, she puts her hand over his and squeezes it tightly, letting his warmth seep into her. Dean leans forward, capturing her bottom lip between his. Maisie leans right back into him, moving her lips along with his. With one final peck on her lips, he rests his forehead against hers.

“I just want you to be happy, Mais.” 

Maisie smiles softly before uttering, “I love you.” 

Dean sucks in a breath while Maisie’s heart skips a beat; her confession surprising them both as it’s the first time she’s said it out loud. Maisie pulls back slightly, chewing on her bottom lip as she tries to get a better look at Dean’s face. His lips part, trying to form what he’s known for awhile now into words. He isn’t big on ‘I love you’s’, but he knows she deserves it.

Just as Dean has worked up the nerve to break his silence, a knock sounds on Maisie’s door. All eyes dart to the source of the sound, including Gandalf’s. Maisie’s dad stands in the doorway, clearing his throat with a sheepish smile on his worn face. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just wanted to make sure you know I’m heading out to grab a bite…” Peter says; seeing the small frown grow on Dean’s face, he quickly clarifies, “Spare blood-bags only, I promise.” He holds his hands up in assurance. Maisie huffs a small laugh.

“It’s fine, Dad. We were uh, just talking, and I think,” Maisie looks to Dean and he nods encouragingly. “I think I’m going to talk to Harper. Tell her to come back. Are you going to feel okay with her back?”

“I’m with you no matter what, sunflower. Hopefully we can bring her around,” Peter answers, giving her a half smile. Maisie notes the underlying skepticism but appreciates his support.

“Thanks, Dad. And I hope so, too. I’m glad I have you back,” Maisie says, making sure he knew where she stood. 

“Nowhere I’d rather be,” he assures.

* * *

 

Harper looks up from her book upon hearing the chime of her phone. She lets her eyes drift back to the page she is on, reading until she gets to a stopping point. Sticking her bookmark in the book and setting it on her lap, she unlocks her phone and absentmindedly opens the new text message. Her heart stops as she realizes who the text is from; Maisie finally answered her.

‘ **_Harp, come home._ ** ’ 

Harper scans the simple text over and over again, eating up the first words from her sister in a month. 

“Sam!” Harper exclaims, jumping up from her chair. Sam sets the book he was looking at back on the bookstore display, and looks to Harper, who is rushing down the aisle of tall bookshelves toward him. 

“What is it? Something wrong?” Sam asks once he meets her halfway. 

“Maisie,” Harper breathes out. Sam’s eyebrows crease together in concern, but Harper shakes her head. “She wants me to come home,” she finishes, and a grin appears on Sam’s face.

“Looks like you’re going home, then.” Harper grins back, a spark of something like renewed hope, glowing in her eyes.

* * *

 

Although overjoyed initially by Maisie’s message, Harper’s excitement turns to worry on their drive back to the Safehouse. Harper distracts herself with music and discussing books with Sam, but upon reaching home, the distractions fade away, forcing her to deal with idea of the moments to come.

After hopping out of the truck, Harper walks up to the front door, followed by Sam, but she stops abruptly a few feet from the large oak door, causing Sam to almost collide with her still form.

Sam glances between Harper and the door. “What’s wrong?”

Harper stares at the door, uncertainty in her eyes. “I feel like I should knock… but this is my house. So I should just walk in, right?”

Sam looks slightly amused by the question, but knowing Harper, he understands that isn’t what she’s actually worried about. “Everything’ll be fine, Harp.” Sam wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side and planting a kiss on top of her head.

“You can hold my hand for courage if you need to,” Sam jokes, earning an eye roll and a smile from Harper. She pulls away from him, placing a hand on the door handle. Taking a deep breath and stealing a quick glance at Sam, Harper finally pushes the door open. Taking small steps into the house, she looks around at the familiar sights, everything exactly as it was. 

She hears him only seconds before she sees him; Neptune comes dashing down the stairs towards her, almost knocking her over with how fast he barrels at her. Sinking to her knees, she buries her face in his soft, pure white fur as he licks at her ear. 

“I missed you too, buddy, I’m sorry I left you,” Harper murmurs as she rubs up and down his back and scratches behind his ears. Neptune’s tail wags back and forth vigorously upon hearing her voice. 

“Harper.” Both of them turn their attention towards the new voice. Maisie slowly makes her way down the stairs, both sisters taking each other in and trying to figure out how to navigate this bubble of distance between them. Seeing her big sister again, who has always been there to look out for her, brings a flurry of emotions. Sad, angry, and happy tears, all seem to spring to her eyes at once; she can’t help but burst the bubble, crushing her sister in a hug. 

Harper finally takes a deep breath. Wrapping her arms tightly around Maisie, she breathes in her missing piece, her home. 

“I’m so sorry, Maisie. Thanks for letting me come home,” Harper found herself barely able to get the words out as she could feel her own tears coming.

“It was never completely home without you,” Maisie spilled out, along with the tears down her cheeks. Harper doesn’t respond, simply tightening her grip around his sister. 

* * *

 

“Can you please pass the salt?” Harper asks with a deadpan expression, staring at Peter across the fold-up table the girls had set up on the back patio for dinner; Peter hands it over with a strained smile.

Harper mumbles a thank you before leaning over to Sam beside her. “Why is he at the table? He doesn’t fucking eat?” Sam kicks her underneath the table. “Ow, that was uncalled for,” she says, earning an eye roll from Sam. 

“So, Harper,” Peter starts, his gaze shifting between the sisters. “How was life on the road?”

“Fine, Sam and I drove around, and killed some monsters like your kind,” Harper stabs some chicken off her plate, glaring down at the food. 

“Harper, really?” Maisie shoots her sister a disappointed look before sharing an unsure glance with Piper, who sits in between Cas and Peter.

Sam clears his throat. “Yeah, it was, uh, good. It was nice spending time together, just the two of us. But we’re both glad to be back.” He smiles at Maisie, sitting at the head of the table in between Harper and her father. 

“Glad to have you back,” Dean says, glancing from his brother to Harper before taking a swig of his drink. 

“Yeah, I’m glad to see  _ almost  _ everyone at this table,” Harper replies, an edge to her tone as she makes eye contact with Peter, sitting across from her. 

“So, what did you guys do while we were gone?” Sam redirects, trying to keep the conversation light.

Dean shrugs. “Not much. Maisie showed me how they run the Safehouse and stitch people up. Hunted a little.”

Maisie nods. “Yup, been hanging out with my dad, too.” She turns her gaze to Peter, giving him a little, reassuring smile. 

“And it’s been wonderful.” Peter grins back. “I hope to get to know you better as well, Harper. I’d be happy to share what I know about your parents, if you’re curious.”

Harper frowns, looking down at her food once again. “No thanks. I’d rather not hear some more lies about my parents from another parental-like figure.”

“Harp,” Sam warns under his breath. 

Peter waves it off. “It’s alright. The invitation will be open if you change your mind.”

Harper glares at him. “I’m  _ not  _ going to change my mind. I’m done with this double life my parents had. I’m done with being lied to and then being expected to keep the lie going. I don’t want  _ you  _ to try to be a friend, or father-figure, or whatever the fuck you’re trying to be.” Harper abruptly stands up, her chair skidding as she pushes against it, and walks back inside the house.

Her exit leaves everyone in silence, surprised by the sudden anger that she let loose. Maisie’s face falls from surprise to dejection. Maisie quickly stands up, ready to go after Harper, but Sam stops her. “Let me talk to her?” 

“Fine,” Maisie nods, deciding it would be better to let her frustrations dissipate before talking it out with her sister, and Sam disappears inside the house.

“You okay, Mais?” Piper asks cautiously; Maisie closes her eyes and nods, sinking slowly back into her seat. “She probably just needs some time to adjust, it’ll get better.” Piper assures. And Maisie chooses to believe this, rather the alternative, that her family could be falling apart. 

* * *

 

Sam finds Harper inside her bedroom, standing in the middle of her room and glancing around. Stepping cautiously into the room, Sam watches her for a second. “What are you doing?”

She glances back at him for a brief second. “Everything is the same… well, not everything, I guess.” Harper sits down on her bed, staring up at Sam. 

“Are you alright? You made quite a scene down there,” he questions gently, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

Harper sighs, falling back on her bed to stare up at the ceiling instead; talking seems easier when she doesn’t have to make eye contact with someone. “I don’t like him.”

“You haven’t even given him a chance, so how do you know you don’t like him?”

“Because I don’t want to like him.” Harper sits up, a steely gaze in her eyes as she stares down Sam. “He lied to us, as kids, just like my parents and my foster parents. So tell me why I  _ should  _ like him.”

Sam shrugs, taking a seat down beside her. “I don’t know him either. All I’m saying is you should give him a chance to prove himself one way or the other. ” He pauses, looking away. “Maisie gave him and  _ you _ a second chance, so why can’t you do the same?”

Harper groans, falling onto her back once again. “Why do you always make such complicated things sound so simple?”

“I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but try... for Maisie.” Sam leans back, laying down beside her; both stare at the ceiling in silence, letting their thoughts wonder.

Harper doubts that Peter is merely here to rebuild his relationship with his daughter. If that was the case, then what was with Nina and the other vampires? None of it adds up in Harper’s mind to a father trying to reunite with his daughter. She doesn’t trust Peter, but if she’s going to figure out what is going on, she’ll, at least, have to act like she’s trying. For Maisie’s sake. For Sam’s as well, since he seems so hellbent on second chances. Only time will tell if Peter is as trustworthy as he says he is.


	24. Time To Begin (Mini-Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Songs: Bishops Knife Trick by Fall Out Boy, Pull Me Down by Mikky Ekko  
> A/N: ah, some good ole sister time, just what the girls need tbh -mara  
> It’s about time lol -Hope

* * *

 

Sitting on the roof of their patio, Harper stares up at the starry sky with a gin and tonic in hand. She sips at her drink, while finding and naming the constellations in the middle of the night. Being home made it difficult to sleep again, and when Maisie comes out onto the roof, Harper knows she must be feeling the same way.

“Hey,” Harper greets her sister before taking a sip. Maisie sits down beside her, ready to say her piece, but Harper beats her to it. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

Maisie raises an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her sister’s admission. “I don’t have to yell at you to get an apology?”

Harper lets out a dry laugh. “Not this time. I was, uh… out of line.” She glances over to Maisie, offering her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. Your dad just reminds me of… well, a lot of things that should’ve gone differently. And it almost feels like him being back is like opening a void between us or something, I don’t know. He’s a big something we don’t have in common anymore. We always had our moms but more importantly we had each other because we didn’t have anyone else. We were our only family. But now you have him and I just have the memory of parents who died as monsters.”

Maisie nods solemnly, glancing around at the treeline silhouetted against the night sky. “I guess that’s why you couldn’t sleep?”

Harper nods her head. “You?”

“I was trying to figure out what to say to you.”

“Well, let's hear it, what did you come up with?” 

A smirk briefly appears on Maisie’s face before turning into a more serious expression. “I need you to try, with my dad. He’s a part of my life now, and I need you two to figure out how to get along. That being said, I know it’s not going to be easy. And I can’t wish my dad away but you’re still my family, Harper. No one is going to replace what we have. You’ll always have me.”

Harper sighs, taking the last swig of her drink and placing the glass down beside her. “I had a feeling you’d say something like that.”

“And?”

“And... Yeah, I’ll play nice. I’m not going anywhere. You’re my sister no matter what.”

“Thank you,” Maisie sighs, a small smile crossing her face.

“But… I would just like to point out that he isn’t my dad and I have no obligation to like him.”

Maisie groans softly, laying down on her back in defeat. “Harper…”

“I’ll still be nice, okay? I’ll keep the sass to a minimum.”

“No, you’ll keep the sass to  _ yourself _ . But that’s still you trying.”

“Exactly,” Harper smiles down at her sister, but it falls. “So, have you talked to Momma Q?”

“Nope,” Maisie answers bluntly, sitting up.

“Well, I told her that  _ I  _ told you about your dad, and I know, I lied, which is wrong… but I didn’t want her to worry. You know how she gets when she’s stressed out,” Harper informs, glancing around at the sky to avoid her sister’s gaze. Maisie nods somberly, fully aware of how stress negatively affects their foster mother’s mental health. 

“Now that the family shit is out of the way, how are things going with Dean? Do I need to punch him again?” Harper asks, trying to lighten the mood as she bumps shoulders with her sister.

Maisie can’t help the smile that blooms on her face, at both the joke and the thought of Dean. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to punch Dean. You should probably hug him, he helped me realize it was time for you to come home. He gave me the nudge to send you that text.”

Harper gives Maisie a skeptical look, but lets her continue.

“He’s been pretty close to perfect. The only thing is…” Maisie trails off, hesitantly chewing on her lip. 

“What? What did he do?” Harper urges, raising an eyebrow expectantly, to which Maisie rolls her eyes.

“He didn’t  _ do  _ anything, Harper. It’s just… We haven’t had sex yet,” Maisie blurts out finally, throwing her hands in the air. Harper screws up her face in a disturbed way.

“That’s too much information already, do we need to talk about this?” Harper whines.

“You’ve been gone for a month, I need to talk about it with someone!” Maisie pleads.

“Talk to Piper! She has sex with all kinds of people,” Harper shoots back.

“Oh my god, Harper, just because she’s bisexual doesn’t mean she’s a whore!” Maisie says exasperatedly. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that!” Harper argues.

“I know, I know. I love Piper, and yes, she’s  _ like  _ our sister, but she’s not you. And I kind of feel weird talking to her about boy troubles after, you know… Ellis.” Maisie mutters. Harper sighs but nods her head in understanding.

“Well, what do you think is in the way of you and Dean… Ugh, doing the do?” Harper manages to ask without scrunching up her face in discomfort. Maisie has to take a minute to laugh at Harper’s awkwardness on the subject of sex before she can seriously form a response.

“Hey, I’m vaguely talking about it, you get what you get,” Harper huffs at Maisie.

“Okay, okay,” Maisie manages to compose herself. “He says he wants it to be special with us, to be right. All that cheesy jazz. But mainly I think it’s because he’s scared to do it with my dad in the house.”

“Ha! I knew there was something to be wary of with him,” Harper smirks in mock triumph.

“Ha. Ha, Harper,” Maisie says, unimpressed. Harper puts her hands up in apology but the smirk doesn’t leave her lips.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Harper shakes her head at herself. “I may have an idea to help you get laid.”

“Oh come on, this is not just about me getting laid,” Maisie protests.

“You haven’t gotten laid since you met Dean, not even when we were mad at him. I think that’s definitely a part of it.” Harper gives Maisie her knowing older sister look. Maisie concedes with a simple face shrug.

“Anyways, Dean has been staying with you, so he hasn’t been home in weeks. Why don’t you and him take a roadtrip to the bunker, just the two of you. I think you could both use the trip out. And then, I still have some stuff at the bunker, me and Sam will give you guys a day or two before we come. We can do a double date or whatever dumb normal couples do,” Harper suggests. 

“That… could actually work. But what about my dad, you want to leave him here by himself?” Maisie asks, knowing how skeptical of her father Harper will probably always be.

“Hell, no,” Harper scoffs immediately in response, before going on to elaborate. “We’ll get Cas to stick around. He’s gotten pretty good at babysitting, with all the times we’ve left him with Piper.”

“I think it would more accurately be dad-sitting, but still, this might be one of your good ideas,” Maisie concedes with a smirk.

“Let’s just hope I don’t live to regret it,” Harper mumbles.

* * *

 

 Maisie finds Dean in her room, that has become their shared room over the last month he’s stayed with her. She stands in the doorway for a moment longer, simply watching him with his earphones in, reading one of the books from Harper’s collection. She was always surprised to find him reading a new one every week. 

“I read,” was always his reaction, accompanied with mock hurt that she didn’t pin him for the reading type. But she knew he needed something to keep him from going stir-crazy while he was sticking around for her sake.

Suddenly she heard him calling her, “Babe, you good?” Apparently Dean finally noticed Maisie watching him; he had set the book he was reading on her side table and taken his earphones off. Never breaking eye contact, Maisie makes her way to the bed and straddles him. 

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Dean smirks. Maisie simply smiles in return before kissing the hell out of him. Dean’s hands find their way to her waist, his fingers creeping underneath her shirt. But as much as Dean enjoys Maisie’s sudden fervor, he wonders what brought it about.

“Where did that come from?” Dean pulls back, catching his breath. 

“I just think it’s been too long since I kissed you like that,” Maisie shrugs. 

“Last time you kissed me like that I had to take a cold shower.” Dean raises his eyebrows at her.

“Well, you didn’t  _ need  _ to,” Maisie grumbles.

“I told you why I thought we should wait, I thought you were okay with it? Plus, there’s even more people in the house now, and right across the hall,” Dean points out. Maisie groans in acknowledgement. 

“I know, but… Now that Harper is back and she’s at least kind of on board with my dad, you are gonna go back out on hunts with Sam and I’m gonna miss you like crazy. I just.. I want all of you Dean,” Maisie says earnestly, biting at her lip. There’s a hint of sadness around her eyes, though, knowing she’ll have to get used to sleeping alone again.

“Maisie, that’s just… That’s a really cute way to say you want the D,” Dean tries to keep from smiling, but Maisie hits him on the shoulder, calling him a dumbass. Neither of them can help but laugh before he pulls her back in for another kiss.

“Maisie, I want every inch of you,  _ trust me _ , I want it all. But we can’t do it now with everybody here. I want it to just be me, you, and nothing holding us back,” Dean reasons, running his hands up her arms and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Then we won’t do it here. Take me to the bunker. Just you and me. Harper and Sam can stay here, it’ll be like a house-swap. And you won’t have to worry about my dad.” Maisie breathes, answering all of his questions before he can ask them. Dean looks her in the eye, seeing his own wants mirrored there. Her skin tingles under his fingertips. All he can do is say,

“Screw it, let’s do it.”

* * *

 

Sixteen hours later, Dean is opening Maisie’s car door to reveal the fading light of day. Rubbing her curious eyes free of sleep, she takes Dean’s proffered hand and steps out of the Impala to survey her new surroundings.

“I thought it would be bigger,” Maisie muses.

“Hopefully that’s not what she said,” Dean quips back. 

“Well let’s find out.” Maisie tugs on Dean’s hand, pulling him towards the door into the bunker. Dean spends no time protesting.

The bags are left at the door, along with their shoes, jackets, and restraint. Now, unperturbed by any family, living or un-dead, Dean is more than ready to take this step with Maisie.  More clothing articles are discarded as they make their way to Dean’s room; by the time they stumble through the threshold, all that remains is Maisie’s simple lace bralette complemented by matching bottoms, and Dean’s plain black boxer shorts. 

Taking a step back and breathing deeply, Dean marvels at the sight of Maisie, her skin shining in the low light. But the moment doesn’t last long as they are pulled back to each other. Dean lifts Maisie up by the waist, her legs wrapping around him. Lips meeting skin. Hands pulling hair. Hearts beating together. In the end, nothing between them but pure bliss. 


	25. Sugar, Spice, And Everyone Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Waves by Dean Lewis  
> A/N:this is our rendition of season 12 ep 14 (“The Raid”), so enjoy! When we first watched this, we talked about the episode afterwards and all we thought was, I can see the girls being a part of this episode, we need to write this… so finally, it is written (and it took forever cuz damn is does this episode have a lot of meat to it) -mara  
> Maisie takes a turn being salty instead of Harper lol -Hope

* * *

 

With Harper following, Sam pushes open the door to the bunker, a loud creak echoing throughout the war room below. Harper peers over Sam’s shoulder, glancing around and finding the room clear.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Harper whispers.

“Well, there was no sock on the doorknob,” Sam replies with a smirk, and Harper swats at his arm as they descend the stairs. “What? We both texted them, so they should know we were coming.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t respond. And I don’t really want to see… anything.”

Sam looks amused as he pushes further into the bunker, walking across the war room floor and into the library. “See? It’s fine.”

Maisie appears from the hallway, only wearing Dean’s shirt. “Oh, hey guys,” she greets as she walks past them, heading to the kitchen.

“Are you sure?” Harper turns dramatically to Sam, giving him a ‘I-told-you-so’ face.

“Sure about what?” Dean asks, surprising both Sam and Harper, as he stands in the doorway of the kitchen.

“And he’s shirtless,” Harper grumbles. 

“Could be worse,” Sam replies with a shrug to her, before turning to Dean and Maisie. “Mom said she was going to be coming by at some point, so you might want to put some more clothes on.”

“And if not for her sake, then for mine,” Harper mumbles, earning an eye roll from Sam.

* * *

 

The bunker door opens for a second time that day while the brothers sit around the war room discussing a previous case. “Mom! Hey!” Sam greets cheerfully, glancing up at Mary climbing down the stairs.

“Well, well,” Dean starts. “It has been a while. A long, long, long, long, long, long while.”

“Yeah, all right. He’s dramatic, as you know,” Sam waves his brother off. “What he meant to say was, we missed you. Glad you’re back.” A big, goofy grin plays on Sam’s lips at the sight of their mother.

“Sam, help,” Harper shuffles into the room with Maisie trailing behind. “She won’t stop.” Both girls stop in their tracks upon seeing Mary, and Harper throws Maisie a conspiratorial look.

“I take it back, I’m sorry,” Maisie holds up her hands in surrender.

Harper glares at her briefly before making her way over to Sam, deciding to stand behind his chair. “What’s going on?” Sam asks, glancing up at his girlfriend.

“I’ll tell you later,” Harper mumbles.

“Nice to see you, Mary,” Maisie says a little  _ too _ cheerfully, as she takes a seat around the war room table.

Mary gives her a smile and nod, before revealing the contents in her hands. “Burgers. Beer.” She places it on the table in front of her boys, who immediately make a grab for the food.

“Forgiven,” Dean smiles contently as he starts to open the to-go bag of food. Sam passes out the beers to the girls and then Dean. “Whatcha been up to?” Dean asks while they start dividing out the food.

“Oh,” Mary sighs as she tries to come up with a list; Dean takes a handful of fries out of the bag and into his mouth while she talks. “Jogging, tai chi, meditation.” Mary pauses, noting everyone’s expression as she regales the next item on the list. “Melting rugaru brains,” she adds dramatically, almost causing Harper to choke on her gulp of beer.

“Uh… melting rugaru brains?” Sam repeats curiously.

Everyone stares down Mary, waiting for an explanation, and after a second of silence, Mary decides to come out with it. “There’s no easy way to say it, so I’m just gonna say it. I have sort of been working with the British Men of Letters.”

Sam’s face immediately falls, a mix of sadness and confusion taking its place across his features. “You-- you... uh, you what?” Mary carefully watches her boys’ faces as they respond.

Dean tries to cover his hurt with anger. “Ah,” he breathes out, a tight-lipped expression settling on his face; he looks to his younger brother beside him, then to a stunned Harper, before his eyes fall on Maisie. He could practically see the anger building up behind her eyes as fast as his own anger.

“Mom,” Sam starts calmly. “We, um… have a-- a history with them.” Sam stutters out, trying to gauge if his mother truly understands the gravity of the situation.

“I know, Sam,” Mary replies, hoping she can make them understand where  _ she  _ is coming from. “And it was a hard decision, but they’re doing good work.” Dean looks unimpressed, his arms crossed over his torso as Mary continues. “I have helped them save people,  _ a lot _ of people. We can learn from them.”

Sam’s eyes look glossy as he listens to his mother’s betrayal, hurt coursing through his shoulders; Harper notices him tensing up and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Dean is wearing his typical pissed-off face, and Mary doesn’t look amused by it.

“Don’t give me the face,” she directs at her eldest son.

“What face?” Dean asks grumpily.

“You know the face.”

“There’s no face,” he shoots back.

“That’s the face,” Mary says, gesturing toward him. Dean looks away, poorly hiding his hurt and anger.

“Mom,” Sam interrupts, trying to reason with her, “we have our own tool kit, and it works just fine. And for obvious reasons, like broken ribs and burnt feet…” Sam pauses, composing himself, and Harper’s expression grows dark at the mention of his previous dealing with the British Men of Letters. “We don’t trust the Brits,” Sam finishes simply.

“So where does that leave us?” Dean asks, shoving a hand into the pocket of his jeans and glancing over at an angry Maisie.

Mary’s arms fold over her chest as she stares down Dean for a silent moment. “Same as always.” She glances down at Sam briefly. “Family.”

Dean looks away, trying not to roll his eyes by the looks of it, though Maisie outright scoffs. Sam simply stares at Mary with a hard-to-read expression.

“Just hear me out. Please.” Mary continues, pleading.

“Wow. Just wow,” Dean starts, pacing around his corner of the room.

“Dean…” Mary says, starting to sound a little exasperated. “What the British Men of Letters are doing, what  _ we’re _ doing, it’s a better way. They...” Her sons’ physical response causes Mary’s sentence to fall away. Dean’s arms cross again, and Sam leans back in his chair, covering his face with his hands and bumps against Harper, who decides to take a seat beside him, her hand still on his shoulder.

“Look, I’m not blind to who they are, or what they’ve done, but…” Mary continues, until Sam interrupts with a question.

“When?” he asks, mumbling it into his hand, and when Mary gives him an uncertain look, he expands his original thought. “When? When did you start working with them?”

Mary starts nodding slowly. “Since… before the lake house. It wasn’t Wally. They brought me that case.”

“You were runnin’ an errand for the Brits. You kept it from us. Cas almost died,” Dean adds, frustration clean in his tone.

“Cas almost fucking  _ died _ , because of  _ you _ .” Maisie’s voice shakes with quiet anger.

“A hunter got killed,” Sam adds.

“Think I don’t know?” Mary replies, defensively. “I’m the one who burned his body. I’m the one who told his wife. I watch him die  _ every  _ night.”

“Good,” Maisie seethes. Dean nods in agreement, giving Mary a pointed look, before he takes a break from pacing and finds a spot closer to Maisie.

Mary turns to Maisie, clearly frustrated. “Look, this is between me and  _ my  _ family.”

Dean steps forward, placing his hands on the table as he stares down his mother. “Maisie  _ is  _ my family.” Maisie slides a hand forward to cover one of Dean’s own slightly trembling hands.

Mary lets out an exasperated sigh, looking between Dean and Maisie. “I’m doing this for you,” she directs toward her sons. “I’m playing three decades of catch up here.”

“And we’re not?” Dean fires back. “How do you think this has been for  _ us _ ? We’re your sons, and you’ve been gone. Our whole lives, you’ve been gone,” Dean adds, defiantly. “You said that you needed time. No, you said you needed  _ space _ .” He points at her before moving his hands into surrender. “So we gave you your space, but you didn’t need just space,” he continues, as an underlying sadness creeps into his tone. “No, you needed space from _ us _ .”

“That’s not true,” Mary protests. “Dean, I’m trying--”

“How about for once, you just try to be a mom?” Dean replies loudly to cut off her sentence. 

“I  _ am _ your mother, but I am not ‘just a mom.’ And you are not a child.”

“I never was,” Dean says, deflated a bit. Maisie squeezes Dean’s hand before pushing away from the table, unable to reign in her anger. 

“So stop scolding him like one and own up to your bullshit.” Maisie glares daggers at Mary as she storms out of the war room.  

“So between us and them--” Dean starts.

“It’s not like that,” Mary tries to reason. 

“Yeah,  _ Mary _ , it is.” His stony face contrasts his glossy eyes. “And you made your choice. So, there’s the door,” Dean adds, pointing toward the exit above, before following Maisie deeper into the bunker.

Sam stands up, slowly stepping away from the table, and Harper stares up at him, wondering what he’s going to do or say. 

“Sam…” Mary starts gently.

“You should go,” Sam says nodding, unshed tears in his eyes, before following his brother and Maisie.

An unsettled silence hangs in the air, Mary and Harper both contemplating what would come next. Suddenly, Mary makes a move to follow Sam, but Harper quickly stands up to cut her off. 

“No, just leave. You’ve done enough,” Harper warns, stopping Mary in her stride. Mary nods dejectedly, turning back and making her way out of the bunker. “Hopefully it’ll take less than a month and five days for them to cool off…” Harper mumbles and she goes to follow Sam, finding him in his room. 

As she steps closer to Sam sitting on the edge of his bed, Harper can see his shoulders shaking slightly, his head in his hands. Keeping a small distance between them and unsure of what she should say or do, Harper finds herself reaching out to gently pat Sam’s shoulder. 

“There, there,” Harper tries her best to console.

Sam can’t help the small laugh that escapes through the tears. “Just, come here,” he says, reaching out and tugging on her arm; Harper complies, sitting down next to him. She wraps an arm around him as his head falls onto her shoulder. 

Down the hall, Dean finds Maisie grabbing her few things from her designated drawer and shoving them in her bag. Dean quietly comes up behind her and rests his hand on hers, staying her frantic movement. 

“I’m sorry, Dean, I know this isn’t about me but I can’t stay here with  _ her _ . It’s not right the way she’s treated you and Sam. How could she abandon her only family and hide behind shitty lies. I just made peace with Harper over this kind of bullshit, I can’t- I don’t need this reminder.” She angrily wipes away a few stray tears with her free hand. Dean grabs both of Maisie’s shoulders, turning her to face him. 

“I told her to leave. She’s not staying, but I need you,” Dean states, half in a whisper. Maisie studies Dean’s face before nodding her head, shaking another tear loose. Dean’s grip loosens and Maisie falls into his arms, holding him as tight as he holds her. 

* * *

 

**Three days later**

****

Sam and Harper pull up to the location Mary sent Sam, assuming it to be the British Men of Letters bunker. Harper refused to let Sam go alone, so here they are, reluctantly meeting Mary only seventy-two hours after their falling out.

“Thanks for coming,” Mary starts out as Sam exits the truck, giving Harper a quick side-eye as she follows suit.

“What’s so urgent?” Sam tries to avoid eye contact. Mary sighs but tries to keep the conversation up.

“Sam… I messed up. I know I messed up. But what the British Men of Letters are doing, this is bigger than us, Sam. We’ve got a real shot here.” 

“Shot at what?” Sam shakes his head still trying to understand.

“A world without monsters. A world where you and Dean don’t have to hunt, where you can have normal lives,” Mary still keeps trying to justify her actions. Harper is trying to lay low from beside Sam but she can’t help but scoff, knowing they’ve all tried that before. 

“I chose this life,” Sam replies with a shrug.

“I know. But you were going to school, to college. And I get why you gave it up. But what if you didn’t have to? What if there was a different future for you, for us? That’s why I’m doing this. That’s what I’m fighting for.” Harper clenches her jaw, and Sam’s internal struggle is written all over his face. 

“I’m not trying to recruit you,” Mary continues with her spiel. “But you need to know, things are changing. Please, just let me show you.” Mary backs up and opens the large, metal gate leading to the compound. Sam looks to Harper, holding out his hand. She threads her fingers with his, tamping down her own feelings to support Sam. Together, they cautiously follow Mary.

“It’s just in here,” Mary says, leading them into a large bunker, where possibly miles of  large cargo compartments are set up and linked together, this way and that. Finally they arrive in what seems to be the command central; computers and surveillance screens set up all around the room. There’s a large conference table set up in the middle of the room, where a long haired man sits, as oblivious to their entry as the woman standing across from him at a dry erase board. On the far side of the room Sam spots Mick Davies in what must be his ‘office’.

Sam huffs a ‘wow’, though still seeming unconvinced. Mary nods. “Believe it or not, this is just their temporary base. The Brits talk like they’re roughing it.” 

As they walk further into the room, Mick comes out of his small office space to meet them. 

“Sam Winchester. You didn’t tell me your son was stopping by. And with a friend,” Mick spots Harper’s hand in Sam’s and looks her over before directing his last comment to Mary. 

“Didn’t know I had to,” Mary challenges quietly. Mick gives a strained smile but offers his hand to Sam. 

“Anyway, welcome.” Sam looks at his hand but makes no move to shake it, returning to observing the room. Mick takes this in stride, now turning to Harper, his hand still out.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I’m Mick Davies. And you must be one of the Raven sisters.” Mick tries politely. Harper, however, doesn’t even try to hide her distrust, glaring daggers at Mick.

“I know who you are and it’s not a pleasure.” Before Mick has time for a rebuttal, Sam decides he’s seen all he cares to.

“Yeah, um, you know, I really dig the whole low-budget Mission Impossible vibe, but we’re gonna head back.” Sam gives Mary a tight, unconvincing smile before tugging on Harper’s hand and turning to leave. 

“You sure? You’re just in time for the briefing.” Mick baits. Mary says his name low, and with a warning, but Sam reluctantly turns back slightly, waiting for Mick to explain. “I mean, that is, if you wanna hear how we’re gonna exterminate every last vampire in America.” Mick continues, eyebrows raised expectantly. 

Harper scoffs out loud, but Sam can’t help but listen. 

Mick and his associate debate whether to wait for Ketch briefly, but decide against it due to his unknown whereabouts. Harper and Sam stand on the outskirts of the room, watching the British Men of Letters as Mick introduces everyone around the table. Mary sits down in one of the seats around the conference table, glancing up at her son and his girlfriend.

“Sam, Harper, please. Plenty of seats.” Mick offers.

Sam releases Harper’s hands and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I’m fine.” Harper glances at him, staying by his side. 

“All right, then, let’s begin.” Mick takes a seat and his associate, Serena, takes the floor. She starts discussing their operation, exterminating the vampires in the midwest region of the United States.

“We’ve killed all…” She pauses, letting the information on the monitor behind her pop up. “But eleven.”

“Wait, what? Seriously? How?” Sam tries to keep his face impassive, but his confusion and curiosity is clear in his tone.

“You American hunters tend to see vampires as criminals, rogues. One gets out of line, you show up, lop off its head, and leave town.” Serena responds. “We treat them more like terrorists.”

The male associate with the long hair, Alton, clears his throat before speaking up. “Vampires may typically hunt alone, or in small nests. But scratch the surface, and they’re all connected, from the lowest drone all the way up the chain to the top.”

“To the Alpha?” Sam rephrases, and Alton nods in response.

“When we find a nest, we don’t just charge in a la John Wayne, guns a-blazing.” Mick says, glancing over to Sam. Harper crosses her arms over her chest, glaring down Mick. “We wait, we watch.”

“And more people die,” Harper accuses.

“We determine the size of the nest, its relationship to other vampire groups,” Serena rushes continue before Alton jumps back into the conversation.

“They tend to trade amongst themselves, information, victims,” He explains.

“We’re constantly expanding and refining our intelligence.” Serena’s eyes fall on Sam and Harper, still standing on the opposite side of the room from her. “And when we’ve learned all we can, we go, we assemble a team --”

“And wipe them out,” Mary finishes. Harper rolls her eyes seeing as everyone had chosen to ignore her comment on the obvious flaw in their plan.

“Now all the remaining vampires have bunkered up in an abandoned building near Wichita, the Morest Hotel. They think they’re safe.” Serena displays the location on the large monitor.

“We’ve got the AVD locked and loaded.” Mary says, confidently. 

“AVD -- Anti-Vamp Device,” Alton explains, leaning back in his chair.

“The Anti-  _ Von Vamp  _ Device?” Harper tries to lighten Sam’s mood, and glances up to see his reaction, nudging him with her elbow and giving him a slight smile. All she gets in return is an unimpressed look from Sam and five pairs of confused eyes watching them. “Keep going,” Harper gestures for them to continue on like she hadn’t said anything.

Mick speaks up at the prompt. “Anyway, tomorrow, we ship out, raid the compound, terminate the colony, and, uh, complete Phase One.”

“And then we move on to the rest of the country,” Mary looks up at Sam and Harper. “By the time we’re done, there won’t be a single bloodsucker in America.”

Sam stares at the picture of the building, the Morest Hotel, processing all that had been said. Harper stands silently beside him, trying to provide some reassurance simply by being at his side. She tries process all this information as well, knowing Maisie wouldn’t be too happy to hear her father could be in danger in the near future. 

Mary stands, taking a spot next to her son. “So--”

But before she can’t get out another word, Pierce, a hunter recruited by the British Men of Letters, comes strutting over with a greeting. “Damn. Sam Winchester. Rufus told me all about you. See, him and me worked a case together down the Atchafalaya.”

“I heard,” Sam responds to Pierce’s delight.

There’s an awkward pause before Pierce speaks up. “I tell ya, sure do miss that crotchety old son of a bitch.” Sam wears a polite smile at the response as Alton calls over Pierce and Mary.

“So, what are you thinking?” Harper asks now that they have a moment alone, her gaze searching his face for an honest answer.

“Took the words out of my mouth,” Mick interrupts, walking up to the couple as he buttons his jacket. “Thoughts on our operation?” Sam gives Mick a quick face shrug. “Mmhmm. And our team?”

Sam glances around the room. “Serena and Alton seem smart. Pierce… You know he calls himself, ‘The Hunter King of Baton Rouge,’ right?” Harper suppresses a smile at that bit of information she hadn’t known.

“I do. Unfortunately.” Mick looks at Sam with a small nod.

“A buddy of mine knew him,” Sam continues. “They worked together.  _ Once _ .”

Mick lets out a sigh. “Right, you see, the truth is, your mother excepted, we’ve struggled to attract the, uh, top shelf of American Hunters. Like you two.”

“Real smooth,” Harper comments, unimpressed with Mick’s flattery tactics. 

Sam makes eye contact with Mick for a brief moment before looking to Harper, who gives him a shrug. The rest of the team starts to assemble their equipment on the conference table, while Mary rejoins Sam and Harper, the three of them deciding to take peeks at the new items in the room.

“Sam, this is why I asked you to come. Even if you want no part of it, you needed to know,” Mary says finally explaining herself.

“So this wasn’t a sales pitch?” Sam scoffs. “‘Cause it was a good one.”

“Almost too damn good,” Harper mumbles under her breath; Sam looks to her, acknowledging he heard her concerns. 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, after the thunderous knocks ring out through the bunker, Dean answers the door to an unfriendly face held at knifepoint by Maisie. 

“Honey, I’m home,” Maisie says sweetly, but Dean knows the edge in her eyes. 

“And you brought a visitor. Hope he brought a housewarming gift.” Dean eyes Ketch warily.

“I thought I’d give him the welcome he deserves.” Maisie digs the point of her knife deep enough to make it hard for him to swallow.

“Good idea, babe. Wanna give us one good reason we shouldn’t throw you out with the trash?” Dean crosses his arm, waiting for Ketch to make something up. Ketch simply holds up an expensive looking bottle of liquor.

“Housewarming gift?” He says tentatively. Maisie grabs the bottle before releasing her grip on Ketch.

“They didn’t have anything good at the store.” Maisie shrugs and hops down the stairs, seemingly in a better mood now that she’d gotten a hold of alcohol. 

“Save some for me,” Dean calls after her as he grabs Ketch by the collar and shoves him after Maisie.

“You’re lucky I love you enough to share.” Maisie spins around to wink at Dean. “You, not so much. Sit.” Maisie scowls at Ketch and points at a chair. 

Maisie grabs a tumbler from the liquor cart and pours a good helping for Dean. She then proceeds to take a drink for herself, no glass needed.

“No love for the bearer of gifts?” Ketch asks sarcastically, nodding towards the bottle. 

“You heard her, sit your ass down.” Dean shoots back, sitting on the opposite side of the table from Ketch.

“Charming couple,” he quips, taking a seat before whatever welcome the alcohol had bought him wears out. “Nice place, too. Quaint, cosy.” 

Dean doesn’t respond, simply savoring his drink. A damn good drink, though he’d never give Ketch the satisfaction.

“Not much for small talk, are we?” Ketch sighs.

“Nope.” The single syllable is the only indication Dean had heard Ketch.

“Well, surely you must have some questions; why I’m here for instance.” Ketch raises his eyebrows expectantly. 

“You’re here to recruit us. You already got Mary playing your game. You want me. And Sam. And probably anyone else you can get your hands on.” Dean states.

“Hands off this asset,” Maisie chimes in from her perch on the table beside Dean. Nodding his agreement with a smirk, Dean absentmindedly rest his hand on Maisie’s leg. He’d like to see them make fools of themselves as they try to win Maisie over.

“Well, I don’t, but the old lads have taken quite a shine to you,” Ketch admits.

“Mm. Well, maybe they shouldn’t have sent some chick to try to kill us,” Dean grumbles.

“If you knew anything, you’d know that was a bad idea right off the bat,” Maisie laughs mirthlessly. She knew Dean wouldn’t hesitate to kill off Ketch the second he made a wrong move. Only because he worked with the people who tried to kill Sam.

“Yes-- Toni. No one predicted she would go rogue. No one but me. I had a sneak peek at what a neurotic, overreaching, time bomb she was… We used to date,” Ketch grunts in distaste. 

“Huh. Yeah, I can see that.” Dean shakes his head. 

“Dean, I don’t give a toss if you sign up. Honestly, I don’t care if you live or die. But since we’re such jolly good pals now--”

“Jolly good, huh?” Dean scoffs. Ketch continues to ignore Dean’s obvious hostility as he keeps going.

“Let me just say the the Men of Letters is an excellent fit for someone with our… Inclinations.” Ketch gives Dean a knowing look.

“Our? As in you and me?” Dean raises his eyebrows in skepticism.

“You’re a killer, Dean Winchester. And so am I,” Ketch answers smoothly, not aware he’d just made a wrong move in Maisie’s book. Before anyone takes their next breath, Maisie’s knife skims past Ketch’s head, barely missing his ear and thudding into the wall directly behind him.

“Dont. Call him. That. You don’t get to lump him in with you and your super shady organizations’ lackies. Dean Winchester is ten times the person you wish you could be,” Maisie warns; her voice is low but even Ketch can feel her anger from across the table. Dean doesn’t say anything. Looking up at Maisie in awe, he can’t help but feel a swell of gratitude. He may not agree with her, but he sure felt damn lucky to have her defending him. 

Ketch glances back at her knife, imbedded handle-deep in the wall, then back to the look on Maisie’s face, putting his hands up in defeat.

“I don’t mean to offend--” Ketch tries to start again. 

“Yeah, well your face kind of already does the trick for you, you useless paperclip,” Maisie snides. Ketch’s brow furrows in confusion at the odd insult but lets it go for fear of a knife-sized hole in his chest.

“I only mean that if we go too long without something to track or trap, or punch or gut, well, things get a bit… You get restless. Don’t you?” Ketch changes his wording at the last minute to be safe. Dean looks down at his drink, choosing to take a sip rather than answer.

“The Men of Letters keep me busy. They point me in a direction and bang; off to the races. It’s not a bad life. More of the gritty work, less mess of waiting around and looking for the right thing to kill.” Ketch shrugs, hoping nothing he said sets Maisie off again. When neither one of the couple have any comment, Ketch continues. 

“Speaking of…” He stands. “Now that you’ve heard what I have to say, places to be, vampires to behead.” He concludes, looking ready to leave them be. 

“You got a line on vamps?” Dean asks cautiously; he can feel Maisie tense up again, no doubt this time in fear, wondering if they could’ve caught wind of her dad.

“I do. Interested? Only a three hour drive to Wichita.” Ketch coaxes.

Dean looks to Maisie as she sighs in relief. “I don’t have any other plans,” she concedes.

****

They make it to Wichita in just over two hours and Dean parks Baby next to Ketch’s bike, outside a rundown hotel. 

“What do we got?” Dean jumps straight to business.

“Ten bloodsuckers, give or take.” Ketch answers.

“Three against ten, I like those odds.” Dean swings the trunk open and pulls out a machete.

“The sun will be down in an hour, so we should move fast. Keep the rats from fleeing the ship,” Ketch observes as he pulls out his own weapon.

“Thanks for the pep-talk, Captain Obvious,” Maisie quips with smirk. 

“Fancy.” Dean eyes Ketch’s rifle. Ketch stops fastening on the silencer and nods.

“You’re right, this is too easy. Got another of those?” Dean’s eyes search the trunk a moment before he spots another machete and fishes it out for Ketch. 

“Ready?” Dean asks.

“Always,” Ketch answers. 

Maisie and Dean give each other the ‘I’m rolling my eyes inside’ look.

Once inside, they slowly make their way down each hallway, but find no opposition. 

“Place seems empty,” Dean finally notes.

“Yes. Curious.” Ketch comments in agreement. The three split up to cover more ground, but Dean and Maisie find nothing by the time they meet back on the ground floor. Ketch, however, comes back dragging in his find.

“I found her hiding in the basement with the corpses.” Ketch ignores her protests and growling, holding her at bay with his machete. “Where are your friends?” 

“I don’t know,” the vamp grunts back. Ketch looks to Dean who shrugs, figuring they might as well off her even if she’s the only one they find. Dean watches, puzzled as Ketch calmly sets his machete aside. Instead, he tries to beat the answer out of the monster. 

“Where are they? Tell. Me. Now.” Ketch lands blow after blow, seeming to enjoy the activity.

“Okay. Alright, that’s enough.” Finally, Dean intervenes, pushing Ketch off of the vampire.

“Enough? She’s a monster,”” Ketch sputters incredulously

“I know.” Dean doesn’t argue the point. 

“But that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to their level,” Maisie chides, squatting down to look the vampire in the eyes. After reuniting with her dad, she can’t help but feel a sliver of sympathy for the creature. She probably didn’t have a choice in becoming a monster.

“Just tell us where your friends are,” Maisie prompts, her voice stern but not harsh.

“And you’ll let me go?” The vamp practically whimpers; Maisie shakes her head.

“I’ll make it quick,” Dean offers. 

After a long pause, the vampire knows she’s doesn’t have any better options. “Hunting. They went hunting.”

“Hunting whom?” Ketch queries. 

“The hunters.”  

* * *

 

“Where’s McGillicuddy?” Serena asks as she sits down at the computer, showing the security footage on the main gate of the compound. The guard is missing. Everyone moves, surrounding the monitor and watching for movement. The guard’s bloody, dead body appears on screen suddenly, lifted up to the camera by a vampire, and Serena lets out a frightened squeak. 

There’s a panicked look in Mick’s eyes when he looks to Sam. “What’s happening?”

“It’s the Morest vampires. They’re here.” Mary looks around the room. Sam has a worried expression on his face; Harper puts a hand on his back, feeling concerned as well. On screen, the vampires make their way through the gate.

“We gotta lock this place down, ASAP.” Sam starts making orders, deciding to take control of the situation. “Lock this place down now!” He repeats as he moves into action, grabbing his machete from the table. Harper follows suit. 

Sam and Mary split off from Harper and the others, each group finding and locking down different sets of doors. Sam and Mary run into a few vampires, quickly taking them out. Sam attempts to lock the gate outside, but ends up having to rush due to the vampires charging toward them. 

The vampire that Sam had knocked out starts to stir as they come back inside, and Sam stops Mary from killing him, to her confusion. “We can use him.” Mary nods.

Sam and Mary bring the creature back to the main room, where everyone had fallen back to, for safety. With doors locked and Alton’s eyes on the monitor, Sam and Mary shove the vampire into a chair.

“You okay?” Harper comes alongside Sam, her hand falling on his arm. 

Sam nods. “And you?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“How’d they find us?” Mick asks finally, confusion and worry lacing his tone. “How do they even know who we are?”

The tied up vampire starts laughing. “He told us. He’s back to save us all. Our father.”

“Your  _ father _ ?” Sam repeats back, disbelief clear on his face. “The Alpha?”

“That’s impossible,” Serena pipes up. “Our intel has him in Morocco. He’s been there for at least a decade.”

“Wrong.” Sam glares down the vampire, before looking over to Mick. “I met him five years ago in Hoople, North Dakota.”

“You’re dead,” taunts the vampire. “You’re  _ all _ dead.” He starts laughing again before growling at Mary as she swings her machete, slicing his head clean off. 

Sam clenches his jaw and runs his fingers through his hair, trying to come up with any decent ideas. Beside him, Harper’s hands ball into fists. “Your extermination plan, did it have any contingencies for this?” Sam asks Mick, both clearly stressed about the situation. 

“No.” Sam lets out a humorless laugh at Mick’s answer.

Serena tries to think of a way to get backup, but Sam, Mary, and Harper all know there is no time for that. Mary voices that truth.

“This place is not meant for defense, and those doors will not hold long.” Mary lets out a sigh. “Okay, who here has ever killed anything?” Pierce is the only one to raise his hand. 

“That’s just fucking great,” Harper breathes out, venting her frustration slightly. 

“All right, we gotta arm up,” Sam says, moving to a better position at the conference table. “Weapons on the table. Blades, guns, spells.” Everyone follows orders, placing all the weapons down, which isn’t much of any. “Is this it?”

“Yeah,” Mick responds, the panicking causing an eerie calmness to take over him. 

“Most of our weapons are in the Armory, including the AVD,” Alton explains. 

“We could set it off in the vents,” Mary offers as an idea. “Maximize coverage, use the gas like a bug bomb.”

“Will that kill the Alpha?” Mick asks, staring down at the table.

Sam scoffs. “Kill? Doubt it. Hurt? Maybe. You got anything stronger?”

Mary and Mick make eye contact at the question, a knowing look in both of their eyes. “Where is it?” Mary asks firmly. 

Mick walks across the room, grabbing a black case and bringing it to the table. He shuffles weapons around to make room, and swings the case open to reveal the Colt. The surprise on Sam’s face turns to a subtle anger that Harper picks up on. Sam picks up the gun, examining it with a hurt look in his eyes. 

“Where did you get this?” Sam turns to Mick, but Mary is the one who answers.

“I stole it. From Ramiel.”

Harper clenches her fists tightly, remembering back to when Mary revealed her betrayal a few days ago, and how there was that one case where Cas was almost killed. Ramiel was the one who had almost killed him. And it was all for this stupid gun. 

Mick tries to distract from the betrayal. “Yeah, but it doesn’t work. We’ve no bullets.”

The hurt in Sam’s eyes almost makes Harper forget about how pissed off she is. Sam tries to compose himself before speaking up. “Right,” he says softly. Then with more force, he speaks up. “You’re right. Okay, we make some then. Got the recipe from my buddy.” Sam grabs a notepad and pen, and begins writing down the spell.

“Bobby Singer?” Mary asks, and Harper’s heart feels heavy at the name. It’s been awhile since she thought about him. 

“Yep,” Sam responds. “All right, Mick, you’re gonna need holy oil, sage, and myrrh. You got that here?” Mick nods. “Okay, uh, make a tincture, coat a silver bullet, and use this spell. It’ll mimic the original etchings.”

“And that’ll work?” Mick sounds unsure.

“It better. If not, start praying, ‘cause we’ll need a miracle. Where’s the Armory?”

“I’ll take you,” Mary offers, and Pierce decides to come along as well. 

“I’ll stay behind and help with the spell,” Harper looks to Sam. “And watch the Brits’ backs.” Sam nods, starting toward the door, but Harper pulls him aside for a moment. In a low voice, she asks, “You had the spell memorized?”

“I think so.”

Harper lets out a sigh. “Thanks for the reassurance that we aren’t going to die.”

Sam gives her a tense smile, before he gently places his hand on the back of her neck and slowly brings her forehead to his lips. “See you soon.” And with that, he is following Mary and Pierce out the door. Harper lets out another heavy sigh before joining everyone else at the table.

Mary leads the small group to a door that leads outside the main part of the compound, informing them that the Armory is outside these doors. They get into position before Sam unlocks and swings the door open. A vampire is immediately clawing at the open door. Sam tries to force the door closed again but the monster pushes back, making it impossible to close. Mary and Pierce decide to head back to a different door that will lead to the Armory, leaving Sam to fend off two vampires by himself. 

To Mary’s surprise, Pierce knocks her out with a swift blow to the head once she grabs the AVD, which he destroys once it falls to the ground. Pierce runs back to the conference room, and knocks heavily on the door, calling out to the Brits and Harper to let him in. 

Alton opens the door for him and gets pushed out of the way by Pierce. “What happened?” He asks frantically, leaving the door open behind him.

“It’s bad out there,” Pierce says, all eye focused on him. Harper’s eyes drift to the open door, and as she’s about to say something to the effect of ‘close the goddamn door,’ Alton is stabbed in the back, his body thumbing to the ground to reveal the Alpha vampire. 

“Pretty bad in here, too, huh?” Pierce glances over to Mick with a menacing look. 

Serena takes a knife and charges at the Alpha, before Harper can stop her. The Alpha easily kills her. In the shuffle, Harper closes the case to hide the Colt, while Mick grabs the bullets. They both turn back to the monster, hoping the Alpha didn’t notice as he rises to face them. Harper moves up to stand next to Mick, eyeing him as they stare down the Alpha and the traitorous hunter.

“What the fuck, Pierce,” Harper’s frustration seeps into her tone, as she clenches her fists at her sides.

“Pierce, you’re a hunter.” Mick’s surprise by the betrayal is clear in his shocked, panicked tone.

“Yes.  _ My _ hunter,” the Alpha responds. “Pierce and I have an arrangement. He keeps me off the radar, and I pay him very, very well.” The Alpha walks closer and closer to Mick and Harper, who take slow steps away. “I’m old. I like living quietly. You’ve been making my life awfully noisy lately. You’ve killed so many of my children. I’ve seen your work.” The Alpha stares down a frightened Mick as he continues. “In England, I didn’t get involved because, well, it’s England. But America is my home. And it’s time that you…  _ get. Off. My. Lawn _ .”

The Alpha pauses to compose himself. “Here’s what you’re going to do. We will bring your communications back online. You will make a call to your superiors in London. You’ll admit defeat. You will tell them to cancel this American incursion. Then they’ll watch as I devour you, live, on screen.” Sam and Mary manage to sneak in, the Alpha’s monologue keeping everyone’s rapt attention. Harper notices, sneaking a glance, but keeps her focus on the Alpha as not to give them away. “Hmm, yes, it’s a bit messy, but sometimes one does have to make a point.”

Sam quietly places his machete on the table and opens the Colt’s case, while Mary knocks Pierce out. The Alpha vampire slowly turns around, Mick and Harper dashing away from his reach and joining Mary on the other side of the table. 

“Don’t,” Sam says, pointing the Colt at the Alpha from the other end of the conference table. Mary makes a move toward the Alpha, as if trying to round the table, but Harper grabs her wrist subtly, stopping her before she took more than one step. Mick shows her one of the bullets, and Mary backs off, an understanding dawning on her. 

“Ah, my, my. The Colt. Powerful weapon. Sam, you are aware that there are five creatures on this Earth that gun cannot kill. I’m one of them.” The Alpha says smugly.

“If that were true, I’d be dead already,” Sam rebuttals. 

“That gun can’t save all of you.” The Alpha tries a different tactic, glancing around the room. Sam looks over to the small group, his eyes find Harper’s for brief moment before landing on Mick. 

“Who said I was here to save all of us?” Sam replies, his gaze returning to the Alpha. “My family and I, we kill vamps when they get out of line. And you’ve let us.”

“I have many children, Sam. What’s one, two, here or there?” The Alpha takes a few steps toward Sam. 

“Exactly,” Sam shifts his weight between each leg.

“So?”

“Let my mom, my girlfriend, and me go. We’ll walk away, go back to the way things were, to way things are supposed to be. Hunters and vampires, cops and robbers, a  _ fair fight _ .”

The Alpha looks amused by this. “And the Brit?”

“You can have him.”

“Sam,” Mary’s voice rings out, scolding her son. “What are you doing?”

“Picking a side,” Sam answers, looking to Harper for a moment, before focusing back on the Alpha. 

“You bastard,” Mick says with quiet anger, as he lunges for Sam. They wrestle for a brief moment before Sam throws Mick off of him. Mary moves around to behind the vampire, while Harper steps closer to Sam. Mary swings her machete at his head, which he dodges easily, throwing her across the table. In that brief moment when the vampire was focused on Mary, Sam managed to slip the bullet, that Mick had slyly given him, into the Colt.

“Sam… you and I both know that gun isn’t loaded.”

“You sure?” Sam smirks slightly and watches as the Alpha realizes what had just happened. 

“No… Clever, clever boy,” he says, staring down Sam when the triggered is pulled. Sparks flash from the Alpha slowly until his lifeless body falls to the ground. 

* * *

 

“So, ‘went out, back later,’ huh?” Dean glances between Sam and Harper, referring to the note they left behind at the bunker. Harper wears a sheepish smile in return, while Sam retorts.

“Just getting a drink, huh?” A slight smirk settles on Sam’s face.

“We were with him when we heard this place was under attack,” Dean replies with a deadpan expression. “We drove like a bat out of hell.”

“How come?” Confusion falls over the younger Winchester’s expression. “I mean, you don’t care for these guys. You didn’t even know we were here.” Dean’s eyes fall on Mary, and it takes Sam a moment to realize his brother’s reason. “Right, of course.”

“When I thought something might’ve happened to you, nothin’ else mattered.” Dean confesses.

“Dean, the things I said--” Mary begins to apologize.

“No, Mom you were…” Dean shakes his head, searching for the right words. “It’s not your job to make my lunch and kiss me goodnight. It’s… We’re adults. You’re gonna make your own choices even if I don’t like ‘em. Even if I really,  _ really _ , don’t like ‘em. That’s just something I’m gonna have to get used to. Okay, Mom?” He finishes, him and Mary silently coming to an agreement with their eyes. Mary gives him a small smile, happy to have her boy back. 

The rattling of chains and heavy footsteps draw the attention of the group, all eyes falling on Ketch escorting a chained Pierce out of the makeshift base. “Where are you taking ‘em?” Sam asks, as they shuffle by the group.

Ketch tugs on Pierce’s arm as he stops walking to answer. “We have ways of dealing with hunters who go rogue. They aren’t pleasant.”

“Good,” Sam and Mary both comment.

“Good fucking riddance,” Harper speaks loudly as to make sure everyone hears. 

Mick suddenly appears, making eye contact with Sam, then Harper. Sam gives his family a quick nod, before making his way over him, with Harper following. “Sam. Harper,” Mick says, as they reach him. “If you hadn’t been there tonight…” His voice trails off, as the idea of what could’ve happened was at the forefront of his mind.

“Yeah, we got the kill. That’s what matters,” Sam replies. 

“Hardly an advertisement for the British Men of Letters, though. Or my leadership.”

Harper scoffs slightly. “You can say that again…” Sam sighs, glancing at Harper briefly. 

“Caught unawares with our proverbial pants down,” Mick continues, decidedly ignoring Harper snide comment. “Believe it or not, Sam,” he starts, trying to pitch his crew as something worthwhile. “We’re not--”

Sam cuts him off. “I’m in.”

Mick looks genuinely surprised, while on the other hand, Harper’s expression is full of disbelief and a hint of frustration, clenching her fist and glaring down Sam. She doesn’t understand where he’s coming from with this sudden realization, and it’s not sitting well with her. Maybe that’s because he didn’t even think to discuss this with her before making a decision. After all, they’re supposed to be a team now, but it seems Sam made up his own mind.

“Look, tonight was bad, no doubt, ” Sam explains, pulling Harper from her thoughts. “But the Alpha Vampire is dead. You’re changing the world, and I wanna be a part of it.”

Mick is quiet for a moment. “And your brother?” He asks, looking over to Dean and Mary.

“Give me some time.”

Harper blows out a frustrated breath, deciding to walk away before she says something stupid; she notices Maisie, sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, and makes her way over to her sister. “Hey,” she says lamely, as she leans against the car.

“Glad you’re not dead,” Maisie replies, giving her sister a strained smile.

“Still pissed?” Harper asks, glancing over to the Winchester’s. 

“Yup. Have fun following Sam around like a puppy?” Maisie asks in return.

“It was fun while it lasted but I’m ready to jump on that ‘pissed at a Winchester’ bandwagon now,” Harper answers, shaking her head at Sam’s decision. 

“Get a boyfriend they said. It’ll be fun they said. They didn’t say anything about getting dragged into the fucking family drama two months in,” Maisie quips bitterly. 

“Hey, the bitter thing is my job. But you’re right, I thought the family drama waited until you were married.” Harper scoffs.

“Thinking about marrying Sam, are you?” Maisie’s lips slowly twist into a smirk.

“I- what! Maybe you… Shut up,” Harper finally spits out before she leaves her sister laughing and goes to find her own vehicular baby. Definitely not thinking about marrying Sam Winchester. 


	26. The Enemy of My Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: You Had Me at Hello by A Day to Remember
> 
> I’m in love with Simone and I will fight everyone for her love -mara  
> Claire is a lesbian and Dean is her dad. Thanks for coming to my ted talk. -Hope

* * *

 

“You know what we need to do, Harper,” Maisie says cautiously. Harper shakes her head vehemently.

“I said no,” Harper states firmly without wavering.

“We don’t have any better options. It’s the right thing to do,” Maisie reasons. 

“I won’t do it.” Harper crosses her arms. 

“You don’t have to. I will do it,” Maisie assures.

“That doesn’t make me like it any better!” Harper crosses her arms. Sighing exasperatedly, Maisie turns away from her sister.

“We’re wasting time, I’m going.” Maisie starts toward the staircase leading out of their library. Harper throws her hands up, rushing forward to stop her sister.

“Maisie, please. We could... We could just look up the missing persons police report!” Harper tries to argue. 

“Oh my god, that is so impractical. There is literally no reason for this tantrum. It will take me five minutes tops to walk down the stairs, say ‘hey, dad, what was Harper’s parents’ last name’, and walk back up here with all the information we need to find the rest of your family that might be out there! You are just stalling.” Maisie points a finger in Harper’s face with the accusation. All Harper can do is sulk because her sister knows her too well sometimes. 

 Making sure Harper isn’t going to argue any longer, Maisie takes a step downward, only to find Piper making her way up. The sisters hadn’t even noticed Piper’s absence once they started arguing.

“While you two were squabbling like contestants on a reality show, I got the name. It’s Dawson.” Piper informs them with her best mom look. 

“We would make a great reality show,” Maisie mumbles as she goes to sit back down at the table with her laptop. Harper shrugs in agreement while Piper rolls her eyes at them. Maisie gets to work hacking the police database, hoping something will pop up about Harper’s extended family, while Harper, unhelpfully, paces around the room, glancing at the collection of books while her sister works. Piper opens up her laptop to see if she can pull any strings of her own to find a lead.

 It takes close to an hour before they find what they think they’re looking for. No thanks to Harper eating her feelings. Dusting the chip crumbs from her fingers, Harper slides a chair in between Maisie and Piper.

“Don’t touch my computer,” Maisie warns before showing Harper what she found. “Congrats it’s boys and girls.”

Harper groans. “No… I was hoping for like an uncle. And maybe a cousin. I didn’t sign up for multiple family members. Why did I have to be the one with a big family?”

“Well, I have more great news for you then,” Piper adds. “They own a rodeo in Texas.”

“You better be fucking joking,” Harper stares down Piper, gaze unwavering. She’s related to a bunch of Texan cowboys; she could not be a more polar opposite to her extended family. Before anyone even makes the suggestion, Harper starts feeling the dread that would follow once someone has the brilliant idea to visit them. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, chiming off repeatedly in a quick, excessive secession and effectively putting the conversation off for another time.

 “I’ll get it!” Harper offers immediately, rushing away from dealing with her newfound family. Piper and Maisie give each other exasperated looks, before Maisie follows after Harper; she wouldn’t get out of this so easily. Piper opts to stay behind and see what else she can find on Harper’s extended family, the Lovitz’.

Before Maisie can catch up with her, Harper is already opening the door, both dogs, Neptune and Gandalf, watching the door intently and wondering who it could be. The sisters are confronted by a young blonde girl, dressed in all black, leaning heavily against the doorframe while clutching her bleeding and oddly angled arm. 

“The Winchester’s sent me,” the girl manages to get out dryly, before losing her balance and starting to fall. Harper lunges forward, catching her and pulling her back up enough to drag her to the infirmary room, with Maisie close behind. Maisie rushes to pull on some gloves while Harper assesses the girls’ wounds. The dogs stay in the living room, staying close by their owners, but staying out of the infirmary. 

“Dislocated shoulder. Couple fingers broken too. She’s bleeding somewhere on her arm. Might as well just cut the jacket off,” Harper calls out to Maisie who grabs the scissors and gets to work. Maisie cuts off the left arm of the thick leather jacket, then Harper pulls the rest of the jacket off, her right arm seeming to be mostly unaffected.

“Shit, that’s one messed up arm,” Harper comments as they see the full damage done. Besides the dislocated shoulder and broken fingers, there is a long, ugly gash, from her elbow all the way up to her armpit. 

“Thanks,” the girl grumbles groggily, trying to keep her eyes open. 

“Harper, shut up and hold her down,” Maisie shoots, then looks down on the injured girl, brushing some dirty blonde hair out of her face. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll take care of it. You’ll be okay.” As Maisie makes the last assurance, she quickly pops the girl’s shoulder back into place, making her cry out. 

Once the shoulder is taken care of, Maisie readies a needle and suture, talking to the girl as she goes. “What’s your name?” 

“C-Claire,” the girl replies shakily. Her eyes are squeezed shut as she tries to breathe through the pain.

“Well, I’m sorry we had to meet this way, but any friend of the boys is a friend of ours.” Maisie tries to keep Claire busy thinking about other things, besides the crippling pain. Grabbing two bottles from a cabinet, Maisie shakes a single morphine capsule loose from the first bottle and hands it to the girl. Once she downs the morphine, Maisie takes the second bottle and generously pours antiseptic along the gash down her arm. 

“Are you ready?” Maisie asks Claire gently. Taking a deep breath, Claire nods her head. Maisie gives Harper a nod, making sure she’s got a good hold on Claire, before plunging the needle into her skin.

Maisie continues stitching as fast as she can, but soon enough Claire’s screams draw Piper out. 

“Oh good, no one is getting murdered,” Piper states upon seeing the messy scene, however murderesque it looked.

“Is that not what’s happening? ‘Cause it sure feels like it!” Claire grits out between stitches. Piper shrugs apologetically before retreating back to the library, not wanting to be in anyone’s way. 

Finally, after Claire is passed out from a mixture of morphine and exhaustion, and the mess is cleaned up, Maisie turns to Harper. But Harper knew this would come once they got a moment alone and she is prepared, already with her shoes on and keys in hand.

“I’m gonna go, uh, run some errands,” Harper announces. Maisie narrows her eyes, arms on her hips.

“These errands wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that my dad just went out, do they?” Maisie questions.

“Pfft, no! We… Ran out of oreos and ever since we watched  _ Love, Simon  _ you get cranky when we don’t have any oreos,” Harper rambles out. 

“Harper, it’s one a.m.” Maisie reasons with a skeptical look. 

“Vegas never sleeps, baby,” Harper throws up a peace sign and dodges out the door before Maisie can protest any further. 

* * *

 

Hopping out of her truck, Harper watches as Peter heads out of the parking lot and down the street. Harper follows behind him, keeping her distance as to keep her location unknown. Peter turns a corner, going out of view for a moment, until Harper catches up once again. She has been in this part of town before, but she can’t remember how or why. Maybe she’s been here once or twice? She isn’t completely sure, but that hardly matters in this moment.

Harper hangs back as Peter slows to a stop in front of a neon sign. Hunk-O-Mania. She does a double take at this sight of the sign. She almost lets out a groan at the sight of it; she hates Peter a little bit more for forcing her to come back to this strip club, where the sisters had found a lead on the VonVamp’s almost a year ago. 

Leaning against a brick building across the street, she watches as Peter is joined out front by an Asian man in a decent suit. He looks familiar, and Harper starts racking her brain to remember who he is. While Harper reflects, she quickly takes out her phone and snaps a quick photo of the two in the light of the ‘Hunk-O-Mania’ sign. 

“Damn, this is shady,” Harper mumbles to herself.

“Well, yeah, it’s a front,” a feminine voice says beside her. Startled by the voice, Harper turns quickly towards the voice, finding a beautiful, dark-haired woman leaning against a wall in the alley in between the two buildings. 

Harper eyes her cautiously, her hand instinctively reaching toward the gun hidden in her leather jacket. “Who the hell are you?!” she whispers harshly, as not to draw any attention to them.

“Name’s Simone.” The woman takes a step towards Harper, the low street light letting Harper get a better look. This mysterious stranger, Simone, looks Harper over with sharp eyes, a small smirk forming that accentuates her strong jawline. 

“How long have been there and what hell are you even doing here!?” Harper interrogates, quickly turning back to watch Peter enter the club with the man in the suit. 

“I’m pretty sure this is public property, so you can kill the attitude. And I’ve been following you since you got out of your truck, you’re not very good at this whole stealth thing.” Simone answers coolly, drawing Harper’s attention back to her, the smirk never leaving her face. 

“Well, why are you following me?” Harper follows up, desperate for some kind of control in this conversation. Simone simply shrugs. 

“Not following you, sweetheart. I’m following him.” Simone just her chin toward the club, indicating Peter, Harper guesses.

“Why are you following him then? And how the hell do you know it’s a front?” Harper shifts her weight from leg to leg as her confusion and anxiety slowly continue to take over.

“I don’t give away all my secrets on the first date,” Simone’s lips spread into a grin at Harper’s surprised, uncomfortable face.

Under her breath, Harper mutters out to herself, “What is going on?”

“You seem very ill-informed. Is this your first time?”

Harper lets out a heavy breath, getting fed up with this odd situation. “You know, what? Fuck this, if you’re not going to tell me what I need to know, I’ll find out for myself. So stay out of my fucking way.” She starts to take a step away, but Simone steps with her. 

“Answer something for me, first.”

Harper’s fist clench at her side. Would it be rude to punch someone in the face after knowing them for all of five minutes? Probably. 

Simone continues, when Harper doesn’t protest, although she does take a small step back at the change in Harper’s body language. “Why are  _ you  _ following him?”

Harper isn’t sure what question she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. Her fists relax slightly at Simone’s words, debating with herself how much to say. “Just watching out for my little sister,” Harper confesses without divulging too much information.

“Is he dating your sister?” Simone queries. Harper gives her a look of complete disgust, making a gagging noise before she can even answer.

“No! He’s her dad,” Harper reveals. 

Simone nods slightly. “Thanks for the info.” 

With that, Simone walks past Harper and disappears before Harper has time say ‘what the fuck’ again. Sighing in annoyance, Harper chases after Simone into the shadows behind the Hunk-O-Mania building.

“Hold the fuck up. You can’t just show up out of nowhere, all mysterious and gorgeous and then run off without giving me any answers!” Harper confronts Simone’s back as she peeks around the corner to see if anyone is at the back door. 

“That is exactly what I just did, though. The mysterious and gorgeous bit wasn’t planned, it just kind of happens,” Simone replies unconcerned. Harper rolls her eyes in frustration, not completely understanding how Simone is always on top in the conversation. 

“Look, this has to do with my family so if you’re not going to give me anything useful, I’ll remove you from the equation.” Harper gives her best glower, waiting for Simone to acknowledge her. Simone gives a light laugh, turning to cock her head at Harper.

“Humans are so cute sometimes,” Simone muses, a small smirk returning to her lips. Taking a small step backwards, Harper quickly pulls her gun and aims it on Simone.

“You’re not human?” Harper squints her eyes at Simone, still calm and collected, not even batting an eye. Harper mentally kicks herself for not paying more attention and letting her guard down. 

“Hmm no. I’m a vampire,” Simone admits without any qualms. Harper reaches in her pocket but realizes she left her dead man's blood tranquilizers in her truck. Simone scoffs, stepping forward and pushing the gun out of her way in one step.

“Relax, if I wanted to kill you, do you think I would have introduced myself and let you follow me like a lost puppy?” Simone challenges.

“Well, you are a monster, maybe your mother never taught you not to play with you food,” Harper stubbornly bites back. Simone rolls her eyes when Harper pulls a knife on her, flicking the knife out of the way before it reaches her throat. 

“Oh my god, this is not getting either of us anywhere,” Simone sighs. Harper tries throwing a punch as a last resort, fed up with how unhelpful and flawless the vampire has been from the start. “Will you stop? Cool the temper and I’ll tell why I’m here.” Simone cocks an eyebrow at Harper, waiting for her to pull herself together. 

“Fine. Let’s hear it. No more games.” Harper fumes, slowly putting her weapons away but still within reach. 

Simone doesn’t answer right away, waiting a moment to be sure Harper wouldn’t try another stunt. “Peter changed me and my siblings years ago. I think you’ve met them. The VonVamp’s. Thanks, by the way, for getting rid of them.” 

Harper looks slightly surprised, before an even more guarded expression takes over. “You’re a VonVamp?”

“God, no,” Simone replies. “They changed their last names so they wouldn’t be associated with me. Being the only decent person in the family ruined the villainous vibe they wanted.”

“So what? You’re after Peter ‘cause…?” 

Simone rolls her eyes at the question. “Revenge, Harper. Nothing more, nothing less. He tore apart my family and left my life in ruins. It’s about time he’s wiped from the face of this godforsaken earth.” By the fire smoldering in Simone’s eyes and seeping into her voice, Harper knows this is the truth. The truth Harper’s known about Peter all along. 

* * *

 

Back at the Safehouse, Maisie has brought her laptop down to the infirmary, continuing to social media stalk Harper’s extended family while she stays with Claire. 

“I’m gonna buy Harper so many cowboy boots,” Maisie mumbles to herself in amusement, seeing picture after picture of her sister’s family of ranch hands. Maisie hears Claire start to stir, and quietly puts her laptop away. 

“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” Maisie greets Claire as her eyes try to flutter open. Maisie checks her pulse and feels her forehead for any signs of fever. 

Blinking up at Maisie, shrouded in the bright lights of the infirmary, Claire tries to mumble something but nothing audible makes it through her parched lips. Maisie hands Claire a water bottle, screwing the top open for her and helping her lift her head. Once she’s gulped down half the bottle, Claire leans back again, staring at Maisie.

“Are you an angel? ‘Cause… damn…” Claire tries to quip, but is still so out of it, she mixes up her poorly chosen pickup lines. Maisie smiles down on her with an amused look. 

“That’s adorable, honey. Why don’t you try again when there’s no drugs in ya. I’ll give you some pointers to pick up some actual babes,” Maisie says sympathetically, giving her a quick wink. 

“Yeah, just not my babe.” Maisie hears Dean’s voice from behind her and turns to greet him with a smile.  

“Well, I feel loved, two visitors in one night and both of them adorable.” Dean shakes his head at his girlfriend, giving her a soft kiss on her smiling lips, before checking on Claire. 

“Looks like you got your ass handed to you. What gave you that?” Dean gets straight to ugly parts. 

“It was just a werewolf, and he’s the one that got his ass handed to him in the end,” Claire defends; though she’s still groggy. Dean runs a hand over his face with a sigh. 

“Claire, I thought you might have actually learned a lesson after the last time you had a run-in with a werewolf and got turned! Do you have a death wish?” Dean tries to keep his voice even, but his worried nature is showing. 

“Look, it was just one, I thought I could take it.” Claire looks at her bandaged fingers in her lap, not wanting to see the look on Dean’s face.

“I know you did, you always think you can handle it. But you don’t have to handle it alone, kid. You’re lucky you were so close to the Safehouse, or who knows what could’ve happened to you.” Dean tries for the hundredth time to help her see reason. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’ll call you before, instead of after. Can I go back to sleep now, dad,” Claire mumbles her apology and is already closing her eyes, not even realizing she just called Dean dad.

“Did she just call me dad!?” Dean’s eyes go wide, looking to Maisie with his mouth open, making sure he wasn’t the only one who heard it. Maisie presses her lips together, nodding her head and trying not to laugh.

“It’s like a Brooklyn Nine-Nine episode,” Maisie squeals quietly. 

“Does that make me a sixty year old man?” Dean asks, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion at the whole situation. 

“It’s okay, babe, you look great for sixty,” Maisie quips back, giving him a pat on the butt as they leave Claire to rest.

* * *

 

Harper pushes open the backdoor, still mulling over the night’s odd events and an even odder ally, when she notices Dean standing in her house. Confusion falls over her face; today seems to be getting weirder and weirder as it goes on.

“What are you doing here?” Harper asks, glancing around the room to find them alone. Dean takes a sip of his beer as he leans back against the counter.

“Here to check on my girls,” Dean replies smoothly.

Harper gives him a face. “I’m  _ not  _ one of your girls.”

“Not you,” Dean says with an exasperated expression. “Maisie and Claire.”

“Oh.”

“What are you doing, strolling in past two a.m.?” Dean gives her a questioning look, and Harper can’t seem to make eye contact with him, finding everything else interesting as if she’d never seen her own kitchen.

“Well, um…” Her voice fails her.

“Are you… cheating on Sam?” The air in the room turns tense at Dean’s accusation. 

Harper looks incredibly offended by the question. “What the fuck? No! Why would you even ask that?” 

“Well, you were sneaking back into the house in the middle of the night, and Maisie didn’t know where you went. What else would you be doing?!” Dean shoots back, taking a few steps toward Harper.

She glances around the room, knowing she would have to explain herself to get Dean off her back about this, but she couldn’t risk Maisie overhearing them. Harper grabs onto his arm, dragging him out the backdoor and quietly shutting it behind them. Dean pulls his arm from her grasp, waiting for an explanation and holding his beer at his side.

Harper takes one more glance at the door, peeking inside, before letting out a heavy sigh. “I’m not cheating on Sam, I swear,” she starts, sounding a little more level-headed than before. “I love him.” Harper looks Dean in the eye as she says it, conveying her seriousness; a smile tugs on her lips as she mentions her boyfriend.

“Then what the hell are you doing, H.R.?” Dean asks, his tone sounding more exasperated than defensive now.

Harper lets out a sigh. “I’m following Maisie’s dad, okay? He’s up to no good, and I want to keep Maisie safe, that’s it, I swear.” 

Dean stares her down for a moment, processing her words and figuring out how to handle this situation. “Who else knows about this?”

“Just you,” she answers quickly, but amends after a second. “Oh, and Simone.”

“Who the hell is Simone?”

“She’s helping me keep track of Maisie’s dad,” Harper replies, feeling like that might be a bit of a stretch; she isn’t entirely sure how much Simone is willing to help out, but nonetheless they are allies in a way, both chasing the downfall of the same vampire. 

Dean nods, looking off at the treeline.

“You can’t tell anyone, Dean. Especially not Maisie, or Sam.”

Dean quickly looks back to her, his face growing more serious again. “I won’t, but  _ you  _ should tell Sam.” Harper glances away, keeping quiet; she knows what Sam is going to be like if she tells him. “Remember last time you kept secrets about Maisie’s dad?”

Harper groans; he has a good point. “Fine, I’ll tell Sam, but Maisie stays in the dark about this,” Harper wags her finger at him.

“I’ll keep it quiet. Cross my heart.” Dean does the cross motion over his chest with his finger.

“And I’ll kill you if don’t,” Harper warns.

“Awe love you too, buddy.” Harper rolls her eyes and leaves Dean with his beer and his stupid smirking face.


	27. Texas Hoedown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Friends We Won't Forget by Lee Brice  
>  A/N: shout out to tori who beta reads our fics and makes sure we stay on track, big thanks to her, we love her a lot :) we promised we’d write her into the series, so here she is lol also i’m sorry for the angst :/ -mara  
> Don’t you think for a second Maisie let dean out of line dancing with her and he honestly killed it they had a blast I let them be happy okay -Hope

* * *

Harper stares off into the distance, eyeing the tree line outside of her bedroom window. She contemplates which black T-shirts she wants to pack, when a shimmer of movement catches her eye. Stepping closer to her window to get a better look, Harper realizes what she saw. 

She slips from her room and runs down the stairs, passing Dean in the kitchen. 

“Why are you running?” Dean asks, squinting at her over his coffee cup.

“I- uh… left something in my trunk,” Harper says over her shoulder, dashing out of the back door before he can question her further. Dean looks up, eyebrows raised as Harper pops her head back around the corner. “Does my hair look okay?” Dean furrows his brows, giving her a face shrug, not sure what she wants from him. 

“Ugh nevermind.” Harper rolls her eyes and disappears back out the door. Finally reaching the tree line, she slows to a walk, trying to collect the cool she only ever pretends she has. 

“Hey,” she says lamely, catching a glimpse of Simone leaning against one of the tree trunks. 

“You are really slow. How have you survived this long as a hunter?” Simone questions without missing a beat.

“Well, hey! I… uh, that’s a good question, actually.” Harper tries to be offended but realizes she can’t even defend herself on that one. Simone is unfazed by Harper’s lack of composure, moving on to the reason she revealed herself. 

“So, you’re going on a trip.” Simone states, no question in her tone.

“Yep… And?” Harper prompts, waiting for the punchline. 

“Leaving anyone to watch Peter?” Simone asks casually, as if she already knows the answer. Which she does. Simone knows everything. 

“Well… I figured you were gonna do that anyway, so why hire private security when I have you?” Harper shrugs, trying to play Simone’s game. “The question is, are you gonna share any info this time or keep playing cat and mouse?” 

“It’s not like I can send you text updates. I don’t have your number,” Simone states, examining her fingernails. 

“Do you.. want my number?” Harper wonders as much to herself as to Simone. 

“Do  _ you  _ want me to have your number?” Simone still doesn’t look up, paying more attention to each of her perfectly manicured nails than to Harper. Harper looks to the sky, sighing in exasperation. Once Harper looks back to her, Simone finally looking at Harper with her hand extended out.

Harper slowly reaches her hand out, a look of confusion on her face as she slides her hand onto Simone’s. Simone quickly smacks her hand away, pursing her lips. 

“Your phone,” Simone states, trying to keep from rolling her eyes. Harper hurriedly grabs her phone from her pocket, handing it to Simone without making eye contact. After a beat, Simone hands Harper’s phone back. “Don’t send me memes.” 

“That’s fair. What about dog pics?” Harper almost can’t believe she actually asked that, the anxiety over her complete uncoolness around Simone growing in the ensuing silence. After the longest minute of Harper’s life, Simone breaks the silence. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s okay. You can send me one every time you miss me.” The corner of Simone’s lip turns up in the slightest smirk. 

“Oh, you think I’m gonna miss you, huh?” Harper shoots back. 

“Everyone does,” Simone returns before disappearing back into the trees. 

“Really, you’re doing the whole dramatic backing into the shadows? Well, it’s not that dramatic in the middle of the day!” Harper calls after her. She immediately face-palms at the whole conversation, or more specifically  _ her  _ side of the conversation. 

She turns back to the house, trying to outrun her embarrassment, only to be met with Dean as soon as she opens the door. Dean wears a look of concern and confusion. “Um, not that I was watching or anything… But why were you yelling at the trees?”

Harper hesitates. Explaining the exchange with Simone would sound odd. Her vampire ally wanted her number so she could send updates on Harper’s foster sister’s vampire dad. “I-- It’s a long story,” Harper sputters out.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “What are you on…? And can I have some?” Harper rolls her eyes, ignoring his response and heading back upstairs to finish packing for their trip to visit her extended family in Texas.

* * *

 

**A Sixteen Hour Drive And A Decent Night’s Sleep Later**

 

Dust kicks up around Harper’s dark blue truck as it pulls into the dirt parking lot outside of the family-run rodeo outside of Abilene, Texas. Maisie kept recommending they listen to country music on the way from the motel, teasing Harper to try to get her to lighten up a bit. It didn’t help, and neither did the cowboy boots. Maisie thought of the brilliant idea that everyone needed to dress for the occasion; she’s very proud of herself for that. 

Harper throws the truck into park, lingering inside the cab, while the Winchester’s and Maisie hop out. She stares out the windshield, eyeing the small rodeo. Metal fences are everywhere, keeping livestock contained for the later events. A small building stands off to the side,  multiple wooden picnic tables littering the ground nearby. A country band is setting up on a wooden stage with plenty of open space for dancing after the rodeo ends. 

Knocking on the driver’s side window, Sam accidentally startles Harper. “Sorry,” he mumbles as she pushes open the truck door. “You ready for this?”

“Uh, honestly? Not at all, but let’s get this over with.” Harper walks around him, feeling uncomfortable and awkward in her black cowboy boots. At least Maisie bought her black ones.

Maisie and Dean take the lead, walking hand in hand toward the small amount of people milling about the rodeo grounds. They arrived earlier than necessary to scope out and meet Harper’s family. 

A woman walks up to them, dressed in ripped jeans, cowboy boots, and a t-shirt; her black hair is pulled into two braids, a baseball cap resting on her head. “Howdy. How can I help y’all?”

Harper glances to Maisie and mumbles, “What the hell did she say? I don’t speak Texan.” Maisie elbows her, and the dark-haired woman gives her an unimpressed look.

“We’re looking for the Lovitz’,” Maisie replies sweetly, trying to make up for Harper’s attitude. 

“Well, I’m Tori Lovitz, I run the place,” the woman introduces herself, giving everyone a little nod in greeting. 

“I’m Maisie, this is Dean,” she says, looking to Dean beside her. “That’s Sam, and… Harper.” Tori simply nods, wondering what this odd group of out-of-towners could possibly need from her family. 

Harper takes a deep breath. “I need to talk to Liam and Nora, if they’re around?”

“Sure,” Tori gestures for the group to follow her, walking toward the small building by the picnic tables and stage. “What’s this about?”

Harper hesitates, glancing to Maisie and Sam who both give her encouraging looks. Their positive expressions make her hate this even more; they’re so glad she found some family, but Harper couldn’t care less. She only wanted to make sure they weren’t some monster that would come back to haunt her; interacting with her extended family is not something she wanted. 

Harper sighs, begrudgingly answering. “I’m your cousin, Harper Dawson.” She didn’t care to dance around the reason. Maisie gives her a slight look, wishing her sister wouldn’t be so blunt about it.

Tori stops in her tracks, turning to look at Harper; her confused look slowly turns to realization. “Shit, where have you been?” Harper simply shrugs, and Tori points to the building. “They should be in there, but I’ll have to go grab my brother.”

The group carries on toward the door, Harper lagging behind a bit. She isn’t sure if she’s ready for this, but she couldn’t back out now. Sam holds the door open for everyone, taking the opportunity to be beside his girlfriend inside. 

The building is actually a small bar with stools and a few more picnic tables. An older couple sits at the bar with mostly empty plates and cold beers, chatting to each other. Their conversation comes to a halt as they look at the group. 

Harper pushes herself forward, forcing herself to speak. “Uh, hi. We’re looking for Liam and Nora?”

The couple stands up from their stools; the man extends his hand to her. “I’m Liam, this is my wife, Nora,” he says, his voice deep and gruff. “What can we help you with?” He glances at the group, while Nora shakes Harper’s hand as well. 

“Um… Well, I-- I’m Harper… Dawson.” Harper swallows heavily; her throat almost feels like it’s closing in. She clenches her fists at her side, hoping it’ll help fight off some of her anxiety. “My mom was your sister,” she directs to Nora, who is wearing a shocked expression.

Her surprise fades after a quiet moment, and Nora pulls Harper into a tight hug. “God, you look so much like your mother.” Liam joins the hug, overcome with joy, and Harper awkwardly accepts it, even though she hates it. 

When they back away, Nora keeps her hands on Harper’s arms, holding her still to get a good look at her. “Where have you been all this time?”

At this moment, another dark-haired girl walks in from the back room of the bar, confusion written heavily on her face. “What’s going on?”

“Ronan! This is your cousin, Harper. Cooper and Lana’s daughter,” Liam speaks up, an underlying joy clear in his tone. He turns to Harper then. “Harper, I don’t believe you’ve met the twins. I think they were born after… the incident.”

Harper nods to her uncle before giving her cousin an awkward wave across the bar. “Nice to meet you.”

“Is she the one that went missing after Uncle Cooper and Auntie Lana died?” Ronan blatantly asks, as if making sure she knows what cousin her parents are referring to. 

“Ronan,” Nora says, her voice a warning.

“What? Just wanted to be sure,” she grumbles.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Harper affirms, not bothered in the slightest by the question. 

“Who’d you bring with you?” Ronan asks, nodding toward the rest of the group.

“Oh,” Harper glances back, realizing she forgot to introduce them earlier. “This is my boyfriend, Sam, and his brother, Dean. And then this,” she grabs Maisie’s arm, pulling her sister to stand beside her. “This is my foster sister, Maisie. She helped me find you.”

Nora smiles genuinely to Maisie. “Thank you.” 

She returns the smile and nods. “I recently found my dad, and I thought Harper should find her family, too.”

Tori comes in then, with a man who Harper assumes is Ronan’s twin brother. He walks up to Harper, holding out his hand which she shakes as he introduces himself. “I’m Killian,” he smiles. “Nice to finally meet you, Cousin Harper. Tori caught me up on the way here.”

Harper nods. “Nice to meet you.”

Killian takes a seat in one of the stools, leaning against the bar; Ronan takes a seat beside him. Sam and Dean take a seat on the table tops of one of the picnic tables, and everyone else decides to stay standing. Harper didn’t plan on having this conversation taking too long, not if she could help it. 

“So, what happened? Where have you been? We knew your parents passed away, but the police didn’t have a clue where you could’ve been.” Nora asks as her expression darkens. Harper had rehearsed her little speech on the way here, but now that she was standing in front of the whole family, her words are forgotten, thanks to her nerves. 

“Um, well… I was saved by a couple, and they kind of adopted me and Maisie. I grew up with them in California… Went to Stanford. Oh, which is where I met Sam, my boyfriend. Although we didn’t get together till last year.” Harper catches herself rambling, and takes a deep breath to collect her thoughts. 

Maisie glances at her phone, seeing a text from Piper that she and Cas had arrived. “I’ll be right back, okay? Piper and Cas just got here.” Harper nods, watching Maisie and Dean both walk out of the bar. Sam stands up then, placing his hand on the small of Harper’s back. 

“I’d love to stick around, but I need to make sure everything is set up for tonight. It was nice seeing you, Harper.” Tori smiles at her cousin before heading toward the door.

“Uh, yeah, same.” Harper replies awkwardly. “Um, sorry for letting you all think I was dead or something for so long.”

Liam shakes his head. “Not your fault, darling.”

* * *

 

After Piper and Cas arrived, more people did as well for the local rodeo taking place tonight. Harper exchanges contact information with her family, promising them they would have a proper catch-up session soon, before she finally walks out of the small bar. Maisie chats excitedly about watching all the different events with the group, but Harper stares off, watching everything around her, not hearing a word.

Everyone starts to walk toward the makeshift arena, startling Harper out of her haze. “Hey, Sam?” Harper calls; he immediately turns to her, smiling and happy. She wish she felt the same way, but after meeting her family, she feels overwhelmed and numb to the world. “Can we just… go on a walk?”

Sam nods, expression growing more serious at her tone. “Yeah, of course.” 

He is beside her in a single stride, and matches her pace as they walk toward the parking lot. A silence settles between them, but the sounds of the rodeo behind them keep the air lively and excitable. As they come to the dirt parking lot, Sam notices the sheer amount of trucks that have taken over.

“See, you fit in just fine,” Sam says jokingly, earning a loud groan from Harper.

“I don’t want to fit in. I didn’t even want to come.” Harper continues to walk, trying to flee from this scene for a while.

Sam takes her extended silence as an invitation to ask questions. “Why didn’t you want to come?”

She lets out a sigh. “Okay, this is going to sound terrible, but I really don’t care about these people.”

Sam looks a little surprised, because Harper is one of those people who says she doesn’t care, but deep down, probably cares too much. “Really?” He sounds unconvinced. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure they weren’t monsters that would come to bite me in the ass, but Maisie insisted. And you insisted. As if finding my extended family was going to change my life or something, so I did it. I came here and met them. And now I want to go home.” Harper kicks at the dirt, avoiding eye contact with an amused Sam. At least, she’s honest with him.

A silence falls between them again, as they circle the outskirts of the parking lot. “Can I ask why you don’t care?”

Harper shrugs, pondering the question for a moment. “Well, I already have all the family I need. I have Maisie and Piper. I have my dog. And… I have you,” she hesitantly adds the last bit before looking over to Sam.

He smiles, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to drop a kiss on her head. “You’re my family, too.” Harper beams at that. She stops in her tracks, wanting to give him a quick kiss, when her phone buzzes, drawing her attention away from the situation.

It’s a text from Simone, about Maisie’s dad. Nothing of interest to report on her end. The sight of the text causes guilt to course through Harper; she still hasn’t told Sam.

“Shit,” Harper mumbles to herself, as she paces back a few steps.

“What’s up?” The concern in Sam’s voice makes her feel worse.

“I-- I have to tell you something… Um…” Harper looks away from him, clenching and unclenching her fist repeatedly. “Don’t be mad, but, uh… I’ve kind of been keeping something from you.” With narrowed eyes, Sam opens his mouth to speak, but Harper quickly cuts him off. “And I know I-- I promised to not do that, but… okay, I’m just going to say it.” She takes a deep breath, fists clenched by her side, and decides to look at Sam head on for this admission. She immediately regrets it, because she can tell he’s already a little angry with her.

“I’ve been spying on… Maisie’s dad. With a friend.”

Sam lets out an exasperated sigh, running his hands through his hair. “Harper…” She hates the disappointment in his tone. “How long?”

“I don’t know… Started back when Claire showed up.”

He lets out another sigh. “Harper, it’s been over a week since that.”

“Yeah, well, no matter  _ when  _ I told you, I knew you were going to be upset about it,” she defends herself slightly, which is probably one of her worst ideas as of recent. 

Sam fumes. “So, you waited? Until what? You were reminded by our family conversation that you constantly lie to your family?”

Shock takes over Harper’s expression, and she looks to Sam, the shock slowly fading into hurt. “No,” her voice sounds small. She feels like that comment was deserved, though. After the last time she kept a secret about Maisie’s dad. His words were enough to drain all of the fight out of her, especially after meeting her family.

“So, why tell me now?” He demands.

“I felt bad about keeping it from you,” she admits quietly. Sam’s anger settles a little at those words. 

“Who else knows?” There’s still an edge to his voice. 

“You and Dean.”

“Why the hell did Dean know before me?” His anger is starting to boil again.

“Because he caught me sneaking back into my house when he came over for Claire,” This one small bit of justification gives Harper back some semblance of fight, and she stares him down a little bit.

“Has  _ he  _ been helping you with this?”

“No,” she says. “Simone has.”

“Who the hell is that?”

Harper grimances at the question; he won’t like the answer. “She’s been looking into Peter, too, and we’re allies. She’s, um… well, she’s a vampire.”

Sam runs his hands through his hair again, anger coursing through him. “Are you fucking kidding me? Please tell me you,  _ at least _ , see the irony of that.” Harper doesn’t respond, deciding silence is best here. 

After what feels like forever, Harper speaks up. “I’m going to let you process this, and you come find me when you’re less mad.” She walks off toward the bar, leaving Sam to himself which, she assumes, will also make him angry, but she needs a break, too.

Harper pushes the door open, finding a few people milling about and her cousin, Ronan, behind the bar. She plops down onto one of the stools near Ronan, ordering a beer.

“This one’s on me,” Ronan says, placing the cold beer in front of Harper.

She smiles gratefully. “Honestly, the highlight of my night.”

Ronan smirks. “What, didn’t have the time of your life meeting my family?” Harper sips at her drink, clearly amused.

“Can’t say I did.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be overjoyed at meeting them, either.” Someone at the other end of the bar flags Ronan down, which Harper is grateful for, as she didn’t know how to respond to that. Ronan comes back after a minute, resting her arms on the bar by Harper. “So,” she starts. “Love the all black, by the way.”

Harper narrows her eyes a bit, trying to gauge her tone. “Thanks…”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t be dressed like this,” Ronan gestures down to her outfit, cutoff jean shorts and a white tank top. “If I wasn’t working in this stuffy bar all night.”

“Oh… well, your outfit isn’t the worst I’ve seen.”

Ronan looks amused. “An odd compliment, but I’ll take it. What’s the worst you’ve seen then?”

“I live in Vegas, I see the worst a lot. It’s hard to pick just one.”

Ronan lets out a little laugh, as Harper takes a long swig from her beer. “All right, what about the worst one here, tonight?”

“I’m pretty sure I saw a guy earlier with a partially shaved head, and the hair that wasn’t shaved off was pulled into a ponytail. I don’t even know what he was wearing, because I was so distracted by his head.”

“Oh my god,” Ronan breathes out, laughter in her tone. “He’s been here a few times. Still don’t know his name.” She starts telling stories about some of the weird people she’s met while working at the bar, and Harper happily listens, laughing and drinking. It’s a nice distraction from the chaos that this night has been. 

The bar starts to fill with more people as the rodeo events come to a close. The country band and line dancing keep the night alive, although. Harper eventually says goodbye to her cousin, walking out of the small bar to watch drunk people dance and find her friends. Maisie and Piper are trying to learn the line dance, while Sam, Dean, and Cas stand off to the side, chatting and watching in amusement. 

Harper stands back, letting the scene unfold in front of her. The loud music, the stomping boots. The laughter and the animated conversations. Her family having a good time with each other. This may not be her ideal Saturday night, but she wants to remember this moment, at this little rodeo in the middle of Texas. They are all together, having fun for the most part. Although, Sam still looks a little on the angry side, when Harper decides to stroll over to the group. 

“I’m sorry,” Harper says just loud enough for him to hear. 

Sam places a hand on her back, leaning over slightly and talking quietly so Dean and Cas wouldn’t hear. “I know… We’ll talk about it later, okay?” Harper nods. “I love you, Harp.”

She smiles at that. “Love you too.”

 


	28. Leather Jackets Are A Girl's Best Friend (Mini Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Songs: Bastards by Ke$ha, and Heathens by twenty one pilots  
> A/N: I’m not associated with the phrase girl gang in any way, i think its a dumb phrase - mara  
> Don’t let Harper fool you, she would die for Claire just like me and everyone else in this chapter. Also, me and mara are the most indecisive people we know so there’s two theme songs. -Hope

* * *

Harper waits as the line rings. Once. Twice. Three times. 

“Who is this?” Claire’s suspicious voice is surprisingly stern.

“It’s Harper, you have to come watch our dogs for us so I can go meet my stupid cow-people family.” Harper dives right in, wasting no time on pleasantries. 

“Um, hello to you too, and I don’t  _ have _ to do anything,” Claire replies, her suspicion turned to annoyance. 

“Yes you do, we saved your life, you owe us,” Harper challenges. Claire huffs and Harper can practically hear Claire rolling her eyes. 

“Harper forgot to add a ‘please’ in there, babe. You don’t owe us anything, Harper owes you a leather jacket,” Maisie walks into Harper’s room just in time to jump in and save the day. 

“Oh, hi Maisie! Well, I uh- I guess I can spare a couple days, I don’t have any hunts on my radar.” It’s Harper’s turn to roll her eyes, hard. As soon as Maisie asks, Claire is nothing but sweet and helpful. 

“Oh, you’re the best! Hey, how’re those new pickup lines I showed you working out?” Maisie asks, wiggling her eyebrows to Harper’s annoyance. Claire lets out an embarrassed giggle, but before she can answer, Harper takes back the conversation.

“Okay, I think we’re good here, we’ll see you tomorrow at six. Bye.” Harper hangs up the phone and tosses it at Maisie who easily blocks it. “Do your lesbian pep-talking on your own minutes. And my leather jackets aren’t for charity cases.”

“You love lesbian pep talks, you’re just grumpy because I’m making you drive to Texas. You haven’t even met your family yet, Harper, at least give them a chance before you call them ‘dumb cow-people,’” Maisie scolds Harper with her disapproving mom look. 

“But I don’t  _ want _ to meet them,” Harper complains, trying to reach for her phone without getting off her bed. Maisie sticks out her foot and gives Harper’s phone a soft kick, sending it under Harper’s bed and out of her reach. Harper sits up, glaring at Maisie; to which Maisie replies with an innocent shrug.

“Look, Harp, we don’t always want family, but they’re what we got. We need them. And the more the merrier! Just think of the nine-nine-“ Harper groans loudly as soon as Maisie tries to start on another Brooklyn Nine-Nine rant. 

“Hey, you love that show as much as I do, don’t give me that.” Maisie crosses her arms. 

“But I don’t introduce it into my day-to-day conversation every chance I get!” Harper shoots back. 

“Whatever.” Maisie disappears from the room, and Harper wonders if that actually pissed her sister off. But moments later, Maisie reappears with a large shoe-box in hand. “You’re wearing these tomorrow,” Maisie states, dropping the box on Harper’s bed and leaving Harper to find out what they are.

Slowly opening the box, almost in fear, Harper sucks in a sharp breath when she sees what’s inside. Harper throws the box from the bed immediately.

“I am NOT wearing cowboy boots, Maisie!” The only reply Harper gets is Maisie’s laughter floating down the hall.

* * *

 

After Claire arrives at the Safehouse, it takes them an hour of Harper stalling before the group finally leaves. Claire spends her time exploring the house and the surrounding woods. She admires Maisie’s gorgeous classic mustang, which does no favors for her crush on Maisie. 

The next three days pass slow and uneventful, with only Gandalf and Neptune to keep her company. She loved them, of course; they were the only boys Claire would ever like. However, when it came to human interaction, Claire let the characters of Brooklyn Nine-Nine keep her company. It was Maisie’s favorite show, after all.

On her last day, she decided she didn’t want to wait for Harper to be picky about which leather jacket she kept. Harper was the one who cut up one of her favorite jackets, so this was only fair. Taking the plunge into Harper’s room, Claire is cautious, half suspecting Harper to have booby traps. 

She looks around at all the posters and stacks of books; she actually admires Harper’s taste. When she gets to her closet, she’s dumbfounded by the amount of black Harper owns. 

“She’s worse than me and I’m practically the goth poster child,” Claire mumbles to herself in bemusement. 

She takes her time, going through all the leather jackets and trying them on. Finally, pushed to the back of the closet, Claire pulls out the last one. As soon as she puts it on she never wants to take it off. 

It fits her to a T, like a home she could take with her. She can tell it was a lot older than most of them, but to Claire, it looks like it had history. She feels invincible. Just how a leather jacket should feel.   

Later that night, everyone returns to the Safehouse and finds Claire asleep on the couch in Harper’s old leather jacket. Gandalf is curled up by her feet, and Neptune is on the floor in front of the couch, where Claire’s hand hangs off the edge and rests on his head. 

The group all gathers around to see the rare sight of a peaceful Claire. She even has a slight smile pulling on the corner of her lips. Maisie pulls out her phone and snaps a picture before the moment passes.

“Awe, she’s so cute, she looks like she belongs,” Maisie sighs softly. 

“Send me that picture,” Dean says quietly over Maisie’s shoulder. 

“That’s my fucking jacket.” Harper purses her lips, not affected by the scene like everyone else. Harper moves to wake Claire, and everyone simultaneously whisper-yells at her to stop. 

But it’s too late. Claire starts to stir. Her eyes shoot open and she almost falls off of the couch and onto Neptune. 

“Shit. Creepy much? How long have you all been there watching me sleep?” Claire sputters groggily. Everyone mutters a lame excuse or apology, making Claire roll her eyes.

“Well, shows over.” Claire yawns and tries to ignore them, reaching down to scratch behind Neptune’s ears; he practically smiles at her. Everyone disperses to the kitchen or bathroom after the long drive, except Maisie who is still taking pictures and Harper who watches Claire with her dog.

 “Nice jacket,” Harper comments, crossing her arms and trying to sound nonchalant. Seeing someone wear that jacket again brought up feelings Harper forgot she had. 

“Um, yeah, I like it… it took me years to find it because you have so many. Seriously, your closet makes you look like a biker gang serial killer.” Claire tries to be snarky, but they could tell she was hoping Harper isn’t angry.

“Yeah, well you’re just my type, girl gang,” Harper sasses back with eyebrow raised, daring her to try again. Claire laughs nervously and puts her hands up in defeat. Harper looks Claire up and down, appraising her. 

“That was the first leather jacket I ever got. My mom gave it to me before she died,” Harper admits.

“Harper wore it day and night for weeks. Couldn’t get her to take if off, no matter what our moms tried.” Maisie smiles fondly, remembering their late mother Laelynn, and all the little things she did just to make them happy. Despite all the hard times life had thrown at them, she made them happy a lot of the time. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Here, I’ll give it back-“ Claire rambles, starting to take it off, but Harper stops her.

“No, it’s okay. It looks good on you.” 

Maisie and Claire both blink at Harper in surprise.  “A-are you sure?” Claire asks, carefully pulling the jacket back onto her shoulders. 

“I’m sure. Just take care of it, kid. A leather jacket is a girl’s best friend.”  

  
  



	29. Skeletons In The Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Muddy Waters by LP  
> A/N: alternative title for this chapter: Harper Getting Roasted By Almost All of Her Friends -mara  
> Shit. Is. About. To. Go. Down. -Hope

* * *

The soft glow of Harper’s lamp spills out onto the small outcrop of roof Maisie and Harper are perched on. The stars are shining brighter by the minute as dusk settles into the night. Taking a sip of her Triple Black Smirnoff, Maisie rests her head on her big sister’s shoulder. 

“You can say them out loud if you want,” Maisie says, knowing her sister is going over all of the constellations in her head. It’s her favorite hobby. 

“Well, you ought to know them all by now,” Harper comments, sipping on her own drink. 

“That’s the Big Dipper, right?” Maisie points to the obviously smaller dipper, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looks up at her sister. Harper sighs heavily, shaking her head. 

“Hilarious.” Harper puts the cool glass to her lips again, savoring her drink and the view. “You know, some of these stars could be dead right now. I love how we can still see their light even after they’re gone.” 

Harper turns to Maisie who lifts her head so they’re facing each other. “I’m sorry, Maisie. But you’ll still see me,” Harper says softly.  

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Maisie’s face scrunches up in confusion, not understand the turn this conversation has taken. Harper puts a hand on Maisie’s shoulder, looking at her intensely.

“I’ll still be here with you. Always.” 

Harper begins to slip away from Maisie’s focus even as she tries to hold on to her. To ask her what she means. Suddenly, the glow of Harper’s lamp is replaced by the hallway light spilling into Maisie room. The roof is replaced by Maisie’s bed, and Harper is replaced by her father shaking her shoulders to wake her. 

“Maisie, you’ve got to get up,” Peter says urgently. Maisie wipes her bleary eyes, blinking up at her dad, still confused by her dream. It was one of her favorite memories with Harper, when they had finally moved into the Safehouse and made it feel like home. It definitely hadn’t ended like that.  She didn’t have time to find the answer, though, with her dad trying to get her up. 

“What’s going on, dad? Are you okay?” Maisie asks, sitting up and trying to get her bearings. 

“We have to leave the city. Vampires have Harper and I’m sure they’ll come for you next,” Peter only half explains, tossing a pair of shoes at Maisie’s feet before grabbing her hand and trying to pull her up from her bed. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Maisie questions, her groggy brain trying to make sense of the situation. She hastily slips the shoes on then follows after Peter who is still tugging on her hand. 

“There’s no time to explain we have to hurry if we want to make it out alive,” Peter urges as they hurry down the stairs and out the back door towards Peter’s van. The same one as the VonVamp’s but they didn’t need it now that they were dead so Peter put it to use. 

“If some vampires have Harper, we have to go get her back,” Maisie says as Peter opens the passenger side of the van, making sure she gets in before shutting it firmly. He jumps in the driver side, the van already running, and immediately starts to pull out of the dirt driveway.

“Do you know where Harper is? We’re going to find her, right?” Maisie presses, her mind waking up now. 

“We can’t go back, we have to stay ahead of them. We should go to your mother, once the other vampires find you’re not here they’ll use Harper to get to her next.” Peter pulls out onto the road and floors it. 

“Why do they have Harper!? How did they get to her!? Dad!” Maisie keeps questioning Peter, still trying to make some sense of all this, but Peter shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter, we just have to focus on getting to Quincy. Where is she, Maisie?” Peter asks urgently. Maisie runs a shaky hand through her hair; Maisie and Harper had always kept Momma Q’s location a secret. Hunters made a lot of enemies, and they couldn’t take any chances. But she had no choice. Her whole family could be in danger. 

“She’s in San Francisco.”

* * *

 

**Two Hours Earlier**

 

It’s the dead of night, but Las Vegas is still awake, as Harper and Simone traverse the streets. Harper had waited until Maisie was sound asleep in bed before sneaking out to meet with Simone. This is the fifth night of stalking Peter since returning home from Texas. The ambience of the city offsets the silence between the girls. The neon lights of the strip club glare against the dark street, uninteresting people entering the building.

Harper lets out an exasperated sigh, feeling impatient about the lack of evidence since she’s gotten back. Peter always seemed to do the same thing every night. He’d come to ‘Hunk O’Mania’ for a few hours before going back to the Safehouse. It is suspicious, but it isn’t concrete evidence that he’s doing something wrong. And they couldn’t exactly just stroll into the club looking for evidence. Or at least, Harper couldn’t.

“Why don’t you just go in there and see what he’s up to?” Harper asks, glancing over to Simone, who rolls her eyes as if the answer is obvious. “Peter’s the only one that would know you, right?”

She shakes her head slightly. “Most of his old crew know me.”

“How?”

Simone’s expression grows deadly serious, guilt flashing across her features briefly. “Used to be a part of their little group, back when I was a newbie vampire that didn’t know any better. Not my proudest moment.” Harper isn’t surprised by this revelation, but it still makes her feel uneasy. “I’m doing my best to make up for it now.”

Harper nods, unsure of what to say. “We all fuck up sometimes.”

“Mmm,” is all Harper gets as a response. Simone straightens up suddenly, eyes glued to the club. “Movement out back,” she whispers before quietly taking toward the alley. 

Harper follows behind, trying to catch a glimpse around Simone. She gently nudges Harper back, as she peers around the corner of the neighboring building, watching the alley. Simone looks back to Harper, mouthing ‘Peter’ before turning back to watch him. The anticipation starts to build in Harper, hoping and praying for this to be something big. After a long minute, Simone motions to follow. They quietly walk down the alley, avoiding discarded trash and litter on the cement. 

Harper catches a last second glance of Peter as he enters a small abandoned building behind the club, and she wants nothing more than to keep following. Simone, however, holds her back for a few minutes, quietly watching the building for any further movement. 

Finally, they make their way to the door, easing it open quietly and checking to make sure no one is around. The door leads them into what used to be an old storage room; now it’s simply filled with litter and empty wooden boxes. The girls set off, exploring the building to figure out where Peter had gone inside. 

A faint creaking noise echoes through the building. They follow it as best they can figure, weaving in between rows of the shelves and boxes. Finally making it through the maze to the back of the building, they find a shelf pushed out of the way to reveal a low doorway in the wall. 

Simone peeks in the doorway first, making sure no one is right inside, and she finds an empty hallway leading straight towards a rusty staircase going up. 

“You stay put. I’ll go up first and check it out,” Simone commands, holding up a hand to silence Harper’s resistance. Harper rolls her eyes as Simone advances without waiting for Harper to agree. Harper leans against the opposite wall as the shelf, peeking around the corner to watch Simone’s careful progress. 

Simone’s upper half disappears up the stairs, where she stalls for a beat. Harper sees Simone’s head pop back down and she quickly motions for Harper to come her way. Harper is down the hallway and right behind Simone in a matter of seconds. She is ready to be rid of Peter. 

Simone makes room for Harper to to see what she’s seeing. As soon as Harper’s eyes adjust to the low lighting, her stomach twists in disgust. It looks like a communal feeding spot for vampires. Cages, only tall enough for someone to sit up in, line the room. Locked in the cages like animals are dozens of people. Some of them look as if they are dying as Harper and Simone process the scene they have plunged themselves into, but others are only halfway dead, there’s still hope for them.

At the far end of the room, Peter sits in a lofty armchair with his fangs buried into the wrist of a young man. Simone has to hold Harper back from jumping the gun and charging Peter right then and there; they need a plan. Peter takes his time draining the young man. When he’s finished, one of the hunks from ‘Hunk ‘O’ Mania’ drags the barely breathing body back in to one of the cages.

“Harper, dear, you can come out now. No more hiding. For either of us.” Peter’s voice rings out loud and clear. He licks a stray drop of blood from the pad of his thumb, waiting for Harper to show herself. 

“Fuck it.” Harper sets her jaw and before Simone can do anything to stop her, she ascends the remaining steps of the staircase to face Peter. “It’s over, Peter.” Harper stares him down, machete in hand. 

Peter smirks, relaxing back into his chair further. “Oh, it’s not over yet. At least, not for me. Can’t say the same for you, though… No one else came along with you? No Maisie, or Sam, or even Dean?”

Simone lets out a heavy sigh, before finally climbing the remaining steps. “She’s not alone.”

Genuine surprise crosses Peter’s feature as he makes eye contact with her. “Simone? It’s been quite some time, hasn’t it?”

“Too long. I’ve been itching to see your head detached from your body. But I’ve had a difficult time finding you these last few years. You finally made a mistake by finding your kid, so here we are. Quite sloppy of you, Peter.” Simone stands beside Harper, tension coursing through her. 

“Was it sloppy? Or did it serve a purpose? You were always the smartest of your siblings, Simone, you should know better. I‘ve always had a plan,” Peter replies with a glint in his eyes. He stands abruptly, causing both girls to tighten their grip on their weapons. “As much as I would love to keep chatting, I’ve got a daughter to corrupt and a plan to see through. But don’t worry, I brought some friends to keep you company.”

A few vampires come out of a back room, some dress casually while others are workers from ‘Hunk-O-Mania.’ Another handful of vampires come up the stairs where Harper and Simone had entered, effectively surrounding the girls. 

“Take care of these two for me, will you?” Peter says, strolling through his vampires and patting one on the shoulder as he makes his way to the stairs. “I would say work on your stealth next time, Harper, but there won’t be a next time.” He gives them a lazy wave as he descends the steps.

Harper’s hand tightens around her machete, her free hand tightening into a fist. “We’re completely fucked,” Harper grounds out. The group of vampires stay in their positions, fangs bared and ready for the girls to try to make a move. “This was a bad idea.” 

“This was your fucking idea!” Simone chides back. She then grabs Harper’s shoulder and nods to the large window on their right. “We have a chance of being slightly less fucked if we don’t stick around.” Only two vampires stand in the way of their exit route. 

“That fall is going to suck,” Harper mumbles, eyes scanning the room. 

The girls make eye contact for a split second before sprinting toward the window. Simone barrels into the one of the right, shoving him out of the way, while Harper ducks, avoiding being grabbed by the one on the left, only tripping up slightly. Simone covers her head as she dives out the window, landing on the ground with a graceful roll. Harper jumps out after her; one of the vampire’s hands snag her pant leg, causing her to fall awkwardly. She lands on her side with a grunt of pain, scraping her arm on the concrete as she rolls.

Simone pulls Harper to her feet, tugging on her. “C’mon, you’re fine,” she says, pulling Harper down the alley until Harper gains her footing. Her arm burns, as they sprint away with vampires close behind. Somehow they would have to make it back to Harper’s truck without the parade of vampires chasing them, and if the stinging in her arm is any indication, they aren’t off to the best start.

“We can’t go back to your truck. They’ll be on us any second, we have to lose them,” Simone explains, checking their surroundings. 

“Exactly, and my truck is closer,” Harper argues, taking a minute to see how bad her arm is; it’s bleeding but nothing that can’t be fixed. 

“Yes, because you parked across the fucking street at a gas station! They’ll be waiting for us.” Simone is exasperated. Taking charge again, she dashes across the street, heading back to where she had left her car before meeting up with Harper. 

“I’m sorry,” Harper whispers mournfully in the direction of her truck before she sprints after Simone as fast as she can with a limp. They only get one street down when a vamp tackles Harper. She kicks him off and rolls to her feet, slashing her machete at him.

He jumps back and dodges Harper’s advance, only to meet Simone’s blade. One quick whack and Simone is taking off again, not waiting to see the vampire and his head fall to the ground.

“Thanks,” Harper mumbles, limping after Simone again. They run down several more streets, Harper beginning to run out of breath, when Simone finally turns down another alley. Barely lit up by a street lamp, is a small electric blue car. Harper recognizes it as 2002 Toyota Echo. 

“You have.. The Blueberry!?” Harper exclaimed, referring to the name of Burton  Guster’s car in the TV show Psych. Simone smirks slightly, acknowledging the comment, but simply telling Harper to get in. They ease out of the alleyway, making sure they don’t have any more oncoming vamps, then Simone shoots down the road towards the Safehouse. 

Harper pulls out her phone, calling Sam the first chance she gets. It rings twice before he answers. “Hey, Harp.”

“Hey, so, um… I might have gotten myself into trouble,” Harper says sheepishly, glancing at Simone, who rolls her eyes.

Sam sighs. “Can’t say I’m surprised. What happened?”

“Peter found out, and he’s going after Maisie,” Harper confesses. 

“And how did Peter find out?” Sam presses. 

“I kind of, sort of, followed him into a shady warehouse where he was waiting to ambush me,” Harper let out a heavy breath, knowing that isn’t going to make Sam any happier. 

“We’re two hours out, Dean says we’ll be there in an hour,” Sam states. 

“Sam…” Harper wants to apologize for not telling Sam beforehand what she was going into. To be fair, she didn’t know tonight would be the night shit hit the fan with Peter. 

“Harper, stop.” Sam doesn’t let her get it out. “At least you’re not dead,” he relents slightly. 

“I guess that’s one thing that didn’t go Peter’s way,” Harper admits. She doesn’t want to think about if she hadn’t made it out and couldn’t get to Maisie. 

“Dean wants to talk to you,” Sam warns before he’s cut off. Harper sucks in a breath, ready for more beratement by Dean.

“Status on Maisie?” Dean asks tensely, and Harper lets herself breathe slightly. That wasn’t as bad as she was expecting, but she is sure she hasn’t made it through the worst of it. 

“I- I don’t know yet. We’re getting close to the Safehouse, but-“ Harper answers tentatively.

“But what?” Dean cuts her off aggressively. 

“But Peter had almost an hour head start on us,” she confesses, squeezing her eyes shut against the possibilities of what could be happening to Maisie. 

“What the hell were you thinking, Harper!? You just left her alone so you could go galavanting after Peter with your new gal pal when you suspected Peter was up to no good? You should have kept us in the loop!” The levee has broken and Dean isn’t going to let Harper get off easy. Not that she is going easy on herself. Harper is silent, not knowing how to answer. She doesn’t have any good excuses. 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean grumbles, handing the phone back to sam. 

“Just… Call me when you get back to the Safehouse, okay?” Sam makes Harper promise before hanging up. Harper looks over to Simone, wondering how much of that she had heard. 

“Don’t look at me, I’m just here for revenge, not emotional support,” Simone deadpanned. Sighing to herself, Harper looks out of the window to notice they were closing in on the safehouse. The dirt road seems to stretch on for miles as anxiety courses through her. 

As soon as Simone gets close enough to the house, Harper opens the door and jumps out. She runs to the front door, not needing to bother with her key because the door is already ajar. The sound of Neptune and Gandalf barking is muffled by the closed door of the infirmary. She rushes to let them out, Gandalf darting up the stairs towards Maisie’s room as soon as Harper opens the door. 

She spots the back door open as well and she runs up the stairs. “Maisie!” She yells desperately, bursting into Maisie’s room and fumbling for the light. Her breath catches in her throat and tears start to well in her eyes. Maisie is nowhere to be seen. 

Harper’s heart starts to race as her breathing grows more shallow. “Maisie, she’s— she's gone, fuck,” she sputters, her voice shaking. Her gaze falls to Simone beside her; in a small, desperate voice, she asks, “What do I do?”

Simone’s face softens, putting her hand on Harper’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath, we’ll find her, okay?” 

Harper’s eyes sting with unshed tears. Running her fingers through her hair, she looks around the empty house, searching for any kind of clue. Simone sees the panic in her eyes and knows she will have to talk her through this. 

“Now that he has Maisie, and he thinks you’re out of the way, is there anyone else he might go after?” Simone asks calmly. Harper wills herself to calm her breathing and think. 

“Piper,” she breaths, pulling out her phone and finding Piper’s number with shaky hands. She only gets voicemail but she immediately hangs up and calls again. It rings again and again. Harper holds her breath, afraid she won’t get through and what that will mean. At the last minute, the line picks up.

“Harper, it’s four in the morning, if someone isn’t dying, I’m going to kill you,” Piper croaks out. Harper huffs out a breath of slight relief but her stomach is still in knots. 

“Don’t jinx it, Piper. Peter has Maisie. I was right about him, and I wish I could have been wrong this one fucking time,” Harper grits out. 

“Shit, Harper. What can I do? I don’t know how I can help, but whatever you need you’ve got me,” Piper reassures, her voice still tired but determined. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m going to fix this. I just needed to make sure you’re okay. I’m going to send someone over to make sure it stays that way,” Harper replies, trying to reassure her. 

“Cas?” Piper asks about their friend they usually assign as Piper’s guardian angel. 

“No, I’m going to have to call someone closer. Someone who probably doesn’t want to hear from me.” Harper clenches her jaw, knowing who she needs to call. 

Harper hangs up the phone and searches through her contact for the number she needs to call next. Her thumb hovers over the name; it’s been so long she doesn’t even know if he’ll pick up. But she has to try for Piper’s sake. As the line rings, she takes a deep breath. 

“Hello?” The man’s voice is slightly groggy. Harper finds herself at a loss for words momentarily. She hadn’t expected her heart to skip a beat. Old feelings die hard, she guesses. “Harper, is that you?” The voice sounds more stern this time.

“Yeah, Danny, it’s me.” Harper finally replies.

“Are you drunk calling me?” Danny asks. Harper huffs put a short laugh but no one is amused. 

“No. I don’t have time to explain but I need a favor. It's really important,” Harper says. Now it’s Danny’s turn to laugh humorlessly. 

“Oh, so now you have time to call me, when you need something. It’s been over a year, Harper,” Danny returns harshly. Harper sighs, she knows it sucks but she couldn’t think of anyone else she’d trust with Piper. 

“I know, Danny, I know you don’t owe me anything but i wouldn’t call if I had another choice. It’s life or death,” Harper is pleading now. 

“What? None of your other backups picked up?” Danny scoffs. Even though he has every right to be angry with her, Harper is almost starting to get impatient. What doesn’t he understand about life or death?

“Actually, you were the first person I thought of. Please, Danny, I’m calling because I trust you with this. I’ll make it up to you when I get back and everyone’s safe. I’ll make up for everything.” Danny is silent for a moment, hearing the desperation in Harper’s voice breaks through his anger. He could’ve sworn she was holding back tears. 

“What do you need?” Danny concedes. Harper’s eyes squeeze shut in relief. 

“My friend Piper Evans. I need you to keep her safe. I’ll text you the address,” Harper explains. 

“Okay.” Harper almost hangs up, but she gets the urge to say one last thing.

“Thank you, Danny. And I- I am sorry,” Harper doesn’t know how to convey everything she means with the simple statement, but it’ll have to do. 

“Yeah, well, just make it back in one piece so you can make it up to me.” Harper manages a small smile; she can almost hear the old Danny, the one she knew before everything got so complicated. He hangs up before she can promise anything. 

Simone raises an eyebrow. “Well, he gave you a hard time, didn’t he?” Harper lets out a sigh, but doesn’t respond. 

“Now, is there anyone else Peter might go after?”

Harper stays silent for another beat, letting her thoughts ramble off anyone important in their lives until there’s only one possibility left. “Momma Q, but she’s in Cali…”

“Momma Q? As in your foster mom? She’s  is still alive!?”

“One of them, yeah?”

Simone rolls her eyes, heading for the door. “You dumbass, he wants revenge.”

  
  



End file.
